Courtmartial
by Truvoyal
Summary: Second in series, sequel to Betrayal? by the same author. The Federation is alarmed at the spread of Christianity aboard the Enterprise. Kirk faces court martial on trumped-up charges. Rated T for violence.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This story is NOT CANON. Please read author's profile before proceeding, lest you be very annoyed with this AU. Also, this is the second story in a series, and I have assumed knowledge of the first story without having to summarize here.

Chapter 1

Kirk, Spock, and McCoy beamed over to Starbase 7, and were met by an armed escort - six burly security officers. Spock raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Kirk and McCoy exchanged a grim look, both thinking that something must be very wrong at this starbase. First the cryptic summons, which said only that the matter was too sensitive to entrust to subspace communication. Now this. And the completely deserted corridors only served to add to their alarm. Upon their arrival at the base commander's office, Spock and McCoy were held in the outer office with the six guards, while Kirk went in to speak with the commander.

As the door closed behind him, Kirk became aware that the wall was lined with more security guards. His internal alarm system at full red alert, he took the offered seat and waited for an explanation. Without a word, Commander Graber handed him an official-looking document. His own name leaped off the page, after the word 'defendant.' It was a summons to a court-martial hearing. The charges were stated in obscure language, but a few phrases made it through the fog of Kirk's shocked brain: 'religious intolerance,' 'persecution,' 'bigoted oppression.' As Kirk processed the words on the page, realization dawned that the security guards were intended to contain _him_. He looked up at Graber.

"The security guards are unnecessary, sir."

Graber glared at him. "Your reputation for jailbreaks is well-known, Kirk. Not to mention disregarding orders that don't suit you. I've been given the responsibility, and I intend to see that you do stand trial. Furthermore, your officers will be in no position to effect a rescue." He sat back in his chair with a look of satisfied contempt.

Kirk refused to respond to the emotional overtones. "Are they being court-martialed, too?"

"Not at this time, so far as I know. However, I've been given authority to detain them as a precautionary measure. So if you will call your ship and instruct the other four officers to beam over, we can avoid an unpleasant scene in front of your crew."

"Which four officers are you referring to?" Kirk was pretty sure he knew, but wanted to force Graber to be specific.

"Commanders Scott, Sulu, and Uhura, and Lieutenant Commander Chekov."

This whole situation felt like a personal attack, and Kirk wasn't happy to have it include his people too. "That would leave my ship without any of its senior officers. It is against Starfleet policy to leave a ship so undermanned." He took a deep breath to control his fight instinct.

"Since when did you become a stickler for the rules?" Graber taunted.

They squared off against each other in a long moment of silence, neither willing to back down. But Graber wasn't the enemy, Kirk told himself. He needed to back off from this confrontation.

He relaxed his posture and moderated his voice. "I'm sorry, sir, but I'm going to have to insist on proof of your authority in this matter. This document appears to be legitimate, but the way you are handling this situation is highly irregular."

Graber relaxed too. "Very well, Captain." He handed Kirk three data tapes. "This is a copy of my orders. The other two are personal messages for you that I have been asked to deliver." He turned his reader so that Kirk could use it.

The orders confirmed that Graber did indeed have the authority he claimed.

The first message was from Admiral Perón. "I'm sorry, Jim. I've been fighting this for weeks, but they've got me backed into a corner. All I can do is send you the best counsel in the Federation. But it's going to take more than a persuasive tongue to get you out of this one. Vaya con Dios. Perón out."

The second message was from Sam Cogley. He was an attorney that had successfully defended Kirk once before. "I just heard about this, Jim. I'm on my way. Don't make any kind of a statement until I get there. Sam out."

Kirk looked up at Graber. "Thank you, sir. I accept your authority in this situation. However, I must tell you again: the security guards are unnecessary, as is detaining my officers. I have no intention of running away from this hearing."

"Sorry, Captain. I am taking all precautions. Mind you, I'm not doubting your word; I'm simply not relying on it. So, are you going to call your officers?" The smug tone of victory had again crept into Graber's voice.

With effort, Kirk refused to react. Sighing, he flipped open his communicator. "Kirk to _Enterprise_."

"Scott here, Captain. Knight to queen's pawn, level one."

"Bishop to king's pawn, level three. Cancel red alert. The situation is not dangerous; I repeat, not dangerous."

"Aye, sir. Red alert canceled."

"However, the news is not good. I'm being held for court-martial. The charges are verbose, but it's essentially religious intolerance."

"What?! Are ye jokin'?"

"No, Scotty, it's not a joke. Furthermore, the six of you are being detained as well. No charges, just a precautionary measure to ensure my cooperation. And Mr. Scott, you will cooperate. That's an order. There is nothing to be gained by trying to avoid this. Also, since it appears we're going to be here awhile, go ahead and authorize shore leave for the crew. Then leave Lieutenant Tanis in charge and come on over and join the party - that's Sulu, Chekov, Uhura, and yourself."

"Aye, Cap'n. Can ye give us fifteen minutes, sir?"

"Certainly. Kirk out." Without a pause, he flipped to another channel. "Kirk to Spock."

"Spock here, Captain."

"Code green. I'm being court-martialed for religious intolerance. The six of you are being detained to prevent any rescue attempt. See you at the hearing."

"Understood. Spock out."

Graber was furious. "I did _not_ give you permission to contact Mr. Spock! Hand over that communicator."

Kirk shrugged nonchalantly, trying to defuse the explosive atmosphere. "I understood you wanted their cooperation."

"I do. Just remember, I'm in charge here. And what does 'code green' mean?"

"The color codes and chess moves are a system we devised a long time ago, for use in potentially hostile situations. The chess moves were verifying my identity. 'Code green' means 'take no action to interfere.'"

xxxx

Spock and the others were detained in the brig, each in a separate cell. Kirk, however, was taken to the opposite end of the base, where a cargo storage room had been prepared for him. He was escorted there, handcuffed between two of the security guards. Upon arrival, he discovered the room contained three cots, not just one. As the door closed and locked behind them, Kirk realized he was going to spend the next indefinite period of time chained between two guards. He was tempted to protest the barbaric treatment of the paranoid base commander. Instead, he decided to use the opportunity to share the Lord with these men.

"Well, gentlemen, it seems we must spend the rest of your duty shift in close quarters. Perhaps, we can get better acquainted. My name's Jim."

"Shut up! Prisoner's not allowed to talk." One of the guards was clearly angry at being stuck with this duty. He pulled roughly on the handcuff, and Kirk fell to his knees.

"Aw, Randy, quit being so surly. I have to put up with this too, you know."

"You shut up, too, Bob. How am I going to survive six hours of this?!"

Kirk suggested, "You might start by getting comfortable."

Randy yelled, "I told you to shut up!" And he swept his arm in a big circle, dragging Kirk along the floor. Bob lost his balance, and fell on top of Kirk.

"Randy! Cut it out! You start a fight in here, and we're going to be in trouble. You want that? Isn't that what got you this duty in the first place? Do you want to do it again tomorrow?"

"No! I don't." Randy just glared at Bob.

Kirk said quietly, "If we all move slowly and carefully, we can probably manage to lie down on these cots."

Randy tensed, but Bob stared him down, and Randy didn't explode again.

Bob said, "You got any better ideas?"

Randy admitted, "No. So go ahead, if you can figure out how."

Neither Bob nor Randy seemed to grasp the simple mechanics of the situation, so Kirk gave quiet instructions, step by step, and they finally succeeded in landing on their backs on the cots. There was silence for about half an hour, during which Kirk prayed fervently for Bob and Randy. Randy's need was obvious, but Bob's need was no less real. Kirk prayed for wisdom and discernment, and for the peace of the Lord to be manifest.

"Randy, what can I do to earn the privilege of talking with you?"

"What?!" Randy sat up and again jerked on the handcuff.

"I wish to earn the privilege of talking with you."

"Why?"

"I want to ask you a question and get an honest answer, instead of a violent reaction."

Randy looked puzzled. "What's the question?"

"What is it about this situation that you find most intolerable?"

"That's obvious. Besides, why do you care?"

"Your anger is obvious. The reason behind it isn't." Kirk kept his tone mild, hoping to avoid setting off the volcano.

"I can't stand being chained like an animal. It's barbaric!"

"Yes, it is. But being treated like an animal doesn't make me any less human. And you still haven't told me why you can't stand it."

Randy jerked the handcuff several times for emphasis. "I can't move, that's why!"

"But you can. We walked all the way across the base chained together. The problem is that we have to move in cooperation, not fighting each other. But we can eat, sleep, play cards, even do calisthenics."

"No way! Calisthenics? Not a chance!"

"Yes, we could. I'll show you, if you're willing." Kirk sat up; so did Bob. They both looked at Randy.

"I don't know. Why should I?" The volcano was subsiding to sullen annoyance.

"Aw, come on, Randy. We haven't got anything better to do, and this might be entertaining."

Kirk said nothing. Finally, Randy agreed.

"All right, but I decide when to quit, if it's not working."

"Fair enough." Kirk got them off the cots, and the cots stacked up against the wall. He began with running in place, which they did in unison. For jumping-jacks and sit-ups, they took turns. Push-ups they managed in unison. Then Kirk tried a combination maneuver that required precise timing if they were to avoid smashed noses. Somewhat to his surprise, it worked. He turned to Randy.

"You could have sabotaged that. Why didn't you?"

"I don't know. Maybe I just didn't want you to think I couldn't do it."

"Okay. Shall we do it again, just to prove we can?"

"Sure." And they did it again with perfect timing.

Kirk said, "There's something else I'd like to try, just to see if we could. It's not really calisthenics. It's called the mirror game. We stand facing each other. Now, pretend there's a sheet of glass between us. Put your hand on the glass. No, the other hand." Kirk raised his own hand at the same time. "My goal is to keep the chain slack on the cuffs. Your goal is to thwart my goal. You get a point every time the chain goes taut. After five minutes, we switch roles and play the opposite goal. There are several rules. If you break any one of them, your time is up right then. First rule is you have to keep your hand on the glass. Second rule is you can't move your feet. Third rule is you must keep eye contact with me. Lastly, you can't actually touch my hand. So, do you want to play?" Kirk smiled, and in his eyes, there was just a little bit of a challenge. Randy took the bait, his competitive nature rising to the fore.

"Yeah, I'll play."

"Bob, will you be time keeper, and arbitrate any score disputes?"

"I'd be glad to, as long as I get a chance to play too."

This game kept them occupied for almost an hour, at the end of which Randy and Bob were getting fairly good at it. Then Randy proposed a new twist to the game.

"Jim, you're obviously a master at this. Could you do it with both hands at once?"

"I have no idea, but we could easily find out."

They discovered it worked better if Kirk watched Randy, rather than Bob, but to their surprise, it worked best if he looked at neither of them, but at a point in between them. Then Randy wanted him to try it with his eyes closed.

"I'll do it on one condition: That you play it as if you want me to succeed, not fail."

They agreed, and what followed had almost a dance-like quality. A night and day difference from what they had been doing. When Kirk opened his eyes after five minutes, Randy's face held a look of surprise.

"That's what you meant by moving in cooperation! But how can you do it blind?"

"As long as it's slow enough. I can feel it through the cuffs. Want to try it?"

At this moment, they were interrupted by the arrival of a meal. Randy immediately reverted to his earlier behavior, jerking Kirk to his knees, and the sense of camaraderie vanished. The orderly placed the food trays on the floor and departed. Bob looked at Randy in disgust.

"What did you have to do that for?"

Kirk assumed it was because he was embarrassed to have been caught being civil, but he said nothing.

Randy stared at Bob for a moment, then muttered, "I don't know," and pulled Kirk to his feet. "How do you propose we manage to eat?"

"Let's unstack one of the cots, put two of the trays on it, and you and Bob can straddle the cot and eat quite comfortably."

Bob asked, "What about you?"

"I'll eat when you're done."

They ate in silence. Bob was mad at Randy; Randy was still angry and jerking the handcuff; Kirk prayed for them both and tried to anticipate Randy's temper. When it was Kirk's turn to eat, he used mostly his left hand in an attempt to avoid setting off the volcano again.

Randy noticed it. "Why aren't you eating with your right hand?"

"I expect that given your present mood, more of the food would reach my mouth using my left hand, awkward as that is."

"I want you to use your right hand."

Kirk shrugged. "If you insist."

Most of the rest of his meal was spilled, because Randy seemed to delight in jerking his hand just before the food reached his mouth. He refused to get angry. Partway through this particular torture, Kirk noticed that Bob was no longer staring at Randy, but at him. When the food was all spilled, Kirk asked Randy for permission to clean up the mess with his left hand. Randy gave it.

When the orderly had removed the trays, they again lay down on the cots in silence. But Bob couldn't stand it anymore.

"Why didn't you get angry? If anybody'd done that to me, I'd have been furious!"

"Actually, I thought it was rather funny."

"What!?" Randy sat up, jerking the handcuff again. "You thought it was funny?!"

"What was funny about it?" Bob asked. "Randy was purposely torturing you. If he'd done that to an animal, it would have given up. You didn't do that either. Why not?"

"I'm not an animal. It was Randy's game, and I had agreed to play. I'm not known for quitting. As for why it was funny, you were both staring at me, waiting for a reaction that never materialized. Besides, it was a glorious mess! When I was a kid, I would have been in big trouble for making that much mess, no matter whose fault it was." Kirk chuckled. "Now that meal time is over, would you like to learn how to play the mirror game blind?"

Randy just stared at him.

Bob said, "I don't understand you."

"I'll answer any question you have, after we finish the mirror game."

Randy finally agreed. "Okay. You played my game; I'll play yours."

They spent about a half-hour working at it, but were not able to return to the flow of the previous session. As they returned to the cots, Randy withdrew into himself, but Bob was full of questions. They talked for three hours, and Kirk led Bob to the Lord. Then they played the mirror game for ten minutes, rejoicing in the flow between them. Finally, they prayed together for Randy, who had fallen asleep. Kirk was giving Bob some advice for his new walk with the Lord, when the door opened bringing two new guards. It was time for shift change.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Over the next three days, Kirk saw a succession of guards, two new ones every six hours. Had he planned it himself, he could not have arranged a more effective tool for sharing Jesus. Some of the men were like Randy, others more like Bob. Once he got two Randy-types at once. That was interesting. Then in the middle of the second day, he got two guards who insisted that he sleep. He didn't require much convincing. Also they saved his meal for him, eating their own one-handed while he slept. Then while he ate, one of them filled him in on what they knew.

"Graber has assigned special officers to this duty - ones with nasty tempers and sadistic tendencies. After he saw what you did to Randy, he ordered that - "

"Wait a minute. I didn't do anything to Randy. What do you mean?"

"Randy is a changed man. So are many others. No one has come out of here unaffected. Many have volunteered for a second shift in here, but Graber won't allow it. Says he'll commandeer staff from other departments first. But the news is all over the base. There's enough people lined up to volunteer, to keep you busy for a month."

"I sincerely hope this won't last that long. A month is too long for the _Enterprise_ to be tied up here."

"There's a rumor going around that they've got another Captain already assigned to take the _Enterprise_."

Kirk paused with the fork halfway to his mouth, staring at first one then the other man. Deciding not to pursue that subject, he asked a different question. "And what about my crew - the other six being detained?"

"Haven't heard anything about replacements for them."

"Have you seen them? Can you tell me anything about how they're doing?"

"Sure. I was over there yesterday. They're being held in regular cells in the brig. They seem fine to me."

"They're not being handcuffed to guards?"

"No. I heard he wanted to with the Vulcan, but was afraid to try it."

"Afraid of what?"

"Vulcans have strange powers, you know. But I think he was most concerned about repercussions from the Vulcan ambassador."

"I doubt there'd be any. Neither Spock nor Sarek would think it was worth dignifying with a protest. A raised eyebrow is the only complaint you'd get. And even Vulcans can't make handcuffs disappear. Speaking of which, how did you acquire the necessary skill to permit me to eat like this?"

"Brent here is Bob's roommate. And by the way, my name's Gil. Anyway, Bob told us what happened in here, so when we saw our names on the duty roster, we got him to show us how you did it. We practiced with a piece of string. Now we're almost out of time, and I have a question. What you're doing seems incredible, but I can imagine that it would be possible to have enough self-discipline to pull this off. But while you're sleeping? No way! So how do you explain the way you slept? No tossing and turning, no evidence of violent dreams. And I watched you carefully when we woke you. Asleep or awake or half-way in between, your face shows nothing but peace. Why?"

"It's because of the spirit of the Lord Jesus Christ, who dwells within me. Before I fell asleep, I asked Him to show you His peace while I slept. And His peace is available to anyone for the asking. Since we don't have time to discuss it, talk to Bob, Derek, Rod, or Jeff.

"Before you go, I want to thank you both for this time of physical refreshing. You have greatly ministered to me, and I appreciate it."

"You're welcome, but we did it because Bob asked us to."

"Then thank him for me, and tell him I'm praying for him."

xxxx

A few hours later, Kirk woke from a catnap realizing he had been thinking about Spock's campaign to win over the security guards. He was too tired to consider why it came to mind, other than the obvious comparison between that situation and this one. As he dealt with the latest Randy-type, his thoughts repeatedly returned to the previous year...

xx xx

It was the day after Spock had asked forgiveness of the crew for attacking their captain on First's vessel. Kirk and Spock were eating lunch together.

Spock reported the results of his project. "There are still several crew members I have not spoken to. Of those I have, five are unable to release their anger. I am concerned for them and would like to help. Do you have any suggestions?"

"Only five out of over 400 seems like pretty good results. What did you hope to do for the five?"

"It appeared to me that a principal element of both your healing and mine was a release of pent-up emotions."

"Spock, you're not thinking of taking them down to the free-fall court and offering your services as a punching bag?"

"Why not?"

"Because it wouldn't work. Your relationship with me is such that it would give you more emotional pain to hit me than it would give me physical pain. You don't have that kind of relationship with these guys. All that would happen is they would get more angry because you didn't fight back."

"Then what do you recommend?"

"If you're serious about this, I'd go slow. Try to get to know them as people first. It takes time to establish a relationship with a sufficient trust level for them to open up their pain to you. But I'm warning you - it won't be easy. I don't know who's on your list, but I can guess the type. They don't know you; they don't understand you; they don't want to know you; they don't like you; you're weird. You don't drink; you're not interested in women; you have nothing in common with them. But most of all, they're afraid of you, because you're in control of yourself in a way they will never be."

"I am aware of the difficulties. But this is something the Lord wants me to do."

"I will pray for you. Let me know if there's anything I can help you with."

xx xx

Several nights later, Kirk got a call from Tanzer at 0100.

"Captain, I'm sorry to disturb you at this hour, but I'm worried about Spock. Five to one odds is too much, even for him."

"What are you talking about, Harb?"

"He's got five security guards in the free-fall court. They got here fifteen minutes before he did, and I could tell by their manner they were cooking up some mischief. I don't want to crash the party if I don't have to, but I thought you should know."

"Thanks, Harb. I appreciate it. But I don't think we need to interfere. Spock can take care of himself."

"Want to bet?"

"Sure. I'll bet you a twenty there's no green blood on the floor after they leave. And let me know if any of them are on tomorrow's sick list."

"Okay, Jim, we'll play it your way. Tanzer out."

Kirk left a message for Spock to see him in the morning, prayed for him, and went back to sleep.

xx xx

When Spock entered his quarters the next morning, Kirk looked him over carefully. There were no obvious wounds, but Kirk wasn't fooled. Spock was controlling a fair amount of pain.

"Sit down, Spock."

"I would prefer to stand, Captain."

"That bad? Harb called me last night, worried about you. I told him to stay out of it. In fact, I bet him there wouldn't be any green blood on the floor. Do I lose?" Kirk smiled, as if to make it a joke.

"No, you win. They were very careful. Undoubtedly concerned about repercussions." Spock's erect posture was stiffer than usual, but he kept shifting his weight from foot to foot. Yet the movement was minute enough not to be noticeable to the casual eye.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

"I contacted each of them individually. They all refused to talk to me. Then one called back and said if I still wanted to talk, they would meet me at the free-fall court at 0100. So I went. The free-fall court was their idea, not mine. Apparently, it's the only enclosed room large enough, but private enough to be suitable.

"When I arrived, they arranged themselves in a circle around me. Their spokesman, the same one who had set up the meeting, informed me that they wished to play a game with me. They were concerned about getting reported for striking an officer. I assured them that if I agreed to play their game, there would be no such consequences. They then told me the name of the game was 'Bait the Vulcan.' I asked if they intended that I be able to walk out of there when the game was over. They said I would. So I told them I would play under one condition: that if I won, they would return to meet with me the following week.

"There was considerable argument over this point, and I gathered their entire reason for setting this up was to convince me to leave them alone. Finally when I agreed that if they won, I would cease 'bothering them,' they agreed to my condition. All of this was before they had explained the rules of this game, so they held a whispered conference, during which they changed the rules. I do not know if they thought I could not hear their conversation, but they clearly expected me to protest at what they wanted me to do."

"Which was?" Kirk folded his arms over his chest, wondering when Spock would get to the bottom line.

"It reminded me of childhood playground harassment. Except these were adults who were obviously experts. I gathered that part of the game was to induce fear in the victim, because they spent over fifteen minutes describing it in graphic detail. What fascinated me the most was that after they began the procedure, they talked about me in the third person as if I could not hear them. Surely they did not believe I was deaf, just because I was blind, silent, and motionless?" Spock stopped shifting his feet as if suddenly realizing what he was doing.

"It's a way of getting distance from you emotionally. Are you avoiding telling me exactly what they did?" Kirk dropped his arms, resisting a more confrontational posture.

"I do not object to your knowing, but I told them I would not tell anyone what they had done." Unspoken, but understood, was the fact that there were other ways of finding out.

Kirk sighed in acquiescence. Spock had a right to let himself get beat up in a good cause. "Okay, but you better talk to Harb if you expect to do this again. And Bones is going to have a fit."

"He already has." A hint of humor sparkled in his eyes. "I managed to avoid him only because you had asked to see me first this morning."

"If I know him, the truth will work better than evasion. If you're worried about a medical report, invite him to your quarters. Then he doesn't have to file anything, assuming you can convince him not to."

xx xx

The following day, Kirk had lunch with McCoy.

"Jim, do you know what that idiot is doing now?!"

"I wasn't aware we had any idiots aboard, but if you're talking about Spock, I've talked to him."

"Harb told me five guys worked him over good the other night. I didn't believe it til Spock started avoiding me. Then he wanted my opinion regarding possible permanent damage due to repeated subcutaneous bruising. I told him I'd have to see it, so he let me come to his quarters. Jim, he's got bruises all over his body. I've seen wounds like this before, but nothing like the quantity he's got."

"You've seen this before?"

"Sure. I got the story out of an ensign about twenty years ago. It's initiation hazing. They get you in a dark room, blindfold you, take off your clothes, scare you to death with a graphic description. Then they tell you not to move or make a sound; if you do, they'll start over. The wounds themselves are made by pinching and twisting the skin. Usually lasts about fifteen minutes, but Harb told me they were in there for over two hours. And Spock expects to do it again next week, and the week after, and who knows how long he'll keep this up!"

"And what about permanent damage?"

"As long as he spaces them a week apart, he can probably keep this up indefinitely. But how much can the man take?!"

"A lot more than you or I. I'm not worried about Spock. It's the guys doing this that concern me. What's it going to do to their psyches to be the perpetrators?"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

On the morning of the fourth day of detainment, Sam Cogley showed up. Kirk knew something was different when they escorted him to the shower and gave him a clean uniform. Arriving at the briefing room, they removed the handcuffs and shoved him inside as the door was opening. Regaining his balance, he noted the room's occupants. Graber looked as if he had been impatiently pacing, annoyance clearly evident on his face. Sam looked up from his papers and gave Kirk a warm smile.

"Well, Captain, you certainly took long enough!" Graber snarled.

"I'm sorry, sir. I was not informed that you were waiting."

"A likely story! Nevertheless, you were brought here to meet with this man who has agreed to be your legal counsel. The law requires that this meeting be in private. But be assured that the corridor will be full of security guards." And with that he left the room, without waiting for a reply.

Sam stood and approached, a look of concern in his eyes. "Jim! It's been a long time. How are you?"

"I'm fine. It's good to see you."

They shook hands and Sam noticed Kirk's raw-skinned wrists. "What's this? You're injured!"

"It's nothing. Don't concern yourself. We have more important things to discuss."

"What kind of weapon caused an injury like that, and why hasn't it been treated?"

"It's not strictly a weapon, though I suppose you could say it's being used as one, not very effectively however. And I don't want medical treatment. Bandages would be counterproductive until I'm sure we're finished with it."

"Jim, stop talking in riddles and tell me what's going on!"

"I will if you promise not to file a complaint to change the situation."

"Why not?"

"Because lives are being saved."

"You're still talking in riddles."

"Well, you should understand this then: Commander Graber does not like me. He has managed to dig himself into a hole as regards my detainment. Your filing a complaint would give him a graceful way out. I do not want to give him that."

Sam stared for a moment before nodding. "Okay, I won't file. But Jim, you've got to be honest with me. If you won't talk to me, I can't effectively defend your case."

"I'll gladly tell you anything you want to know." Kirk walked over to the table. "But Sam, maybe you shouldn't take this case. I've got a feeling you're not going to win." He raised bleak eyes to see what Sam thought of that idea.

Not surprisingly, Sam brushed it aside as unrealistic negative thinking. "You let me be the judge of that. I will say this case has me baffled." They both sat down. "I'm not surprised you're facing court-martial. Your reputation for flagrant disregard of personal consequences was bound to get you in serious trouble eventually. But these charges-" He flipped the document over in disgust. "You're the last person I would have guessed to be accused of religious intolerance. So start from the beginning and tell me everything - anything you can think of that might possibly have a bearing on this case."

"That could take all day." Kirk's half-smile meant he wasn't entirely kidding.

"We've got all day and half the night, and as much of tomorrow as we need."

"Okay." He tried not to yawn. "If I fall asleep, wake me up."

Kirk spent the next three hours telling Sam how he became a Christian. Then Sam had a meal brought in, which Kirk ate slowly and appreciatively. After lunch, Sam suggested Kirk lie down for a few minutes, while he made some notes. Kirk was soundly asleep in moments. Sam let him sleep for four hours, then woke him up and fed him another meal.

Kirk put a hand through his hair and tried to corral his still tired mind. "Was I that incoherent this morning?"

"Nope. In fact, it was a very vivid description. I played it back this afternoon, and was equally impacted the second time. It's a very powerful story. No, there are three reasons I wanted you to sleep this afternoon. I can't have you walking into that court room looking exhausted. It would prejudice the case against you. Secondly, I want you mentally alert for this evening's discussion, which centers around what happened after you became a Christian. Lastly, I need to know whether the behavior I observed this morning was due to your level of exhaustion or not."

"You mean, is the fanatical fervor a figment of my fevered fatigue?" Kirk smiled.

Sam chuckled. "Well, your brain's obviously working now, but that's not what I meant. In fact, I wouldn't describe it as fanatical at all. There's a gentleness, a quietness of spirit that I don't recall being part of your personality before."

"It wasn't. And it doesn't appear only when I'm exhausted because it's not based in my soul or body, but in my spirit. Its foundation is the unshakeable love of Jesus Christ."

They talked another five hours, getting a snack brought in to keep them going. Kirk shared in detail the events of the year since his conversion. He began with a summary of the missions the ship had been involved in. Four months of routine duty had been followed by four months of back-to-back, red-alert crises. The last four months of duty had involved mostly political assignments of one kind or another - not physically life-threatening, but very stressful nonetheless.

Kirk told Sam about the spread of Christianity through the ship's crew. He told of testimonies, one-on-one sharing, baptisms in the pool, and Bible study discussions on the Rec deck. Praise services, prayer times, and teaching sessions were open to all. Nothing was done in secret. After four months they had grown to over 200 believers. There was no record of new believers during the middle four months, simply because they had not had time for any baptisms. However approximately 150 baptisms were held in the last four months. Due to assignment of new personnel, the current total stood at 326 professing Christians out of 430 crew members.

As they concluded the evening session, Sam told Kirk he would be meeting with the prosecutor in the morning. After that, they would have a clearer idea what was behind these charges. Finally Sam admonished Jim to get some sleep, or he would reconsider his promise not to file a complaint.

On the way back to his cell, Kirk asked the Lord what to do about the problem of sleep. In the four days since this began, he had gotten only cat-naps, except for the four hours that afternoon, and the five hours on the second day. Clearly he needed more sleep. But he was not sure how to obtain it. Apart from his desire to share Jesus with these men, he doubted that he would be able to sleep, if they did not wish him to. Surprised by the Lord's response, he nonetheless implemented it immediately upon their return to the cell.

"I'm sorry, gentlemen. I regret not being able to spend time talking with you, but I have been told I must sleep, and I'm afraid that has to take precedence."

One of the guards was a Randy-type. "And what if we don't let you sleep?" he said with a sneer.

"I'm going to ask the Lord to put me to sleep. You will not be able to wake me. Do not be alarmed. Medical intervention will not be necessary. The Lord will wake me when I am sufficiently rested."

"You're a fool! Stupid too! There's no way you can keep me from waking you up!"

"You're right, I can't. But the Lord can. And a word of warning: if you try anything life-threatening, I cannot guarantee His means of prevention will be entirely safe."

"Are you threatening me?"

"Not at all; just giving you some advice."

At this point, the other guard interrupted. "There's a couple things I don't understand. Kirk, you're a warrior. No warrior would willingly sleep in the presence of an enemy. You're not only planning to sleep, you've practically dared us to try to wake you." Kirk grinned. "Do you realize what you're asking for?!" His belligerent stare grew wide with awareness. "Yes, I can see that you do, and you don't even care! So you're going to lie there pretending to sleep, while we see how long it takes to break you, just because somebody told you to sleep? I don't get it!"

Kirk chuckled. "First of all, I don't consider you my enemies, but even if I did, I would still do this, because my life is in the Lord's hands and He is fully able to protect me. Secondly, you are right that I don't care what you do to me. You can do nothing the Lord does not allow. Besides, physical pain doesn't frighten me; I've been there too many times. Third, I really will be asleep, not pretending, so you won't be testing my breaking point, but whether the Lord has the power to keep me asleep. Do you have any other questions?"

"Who told you to sleep, and why?"

"My attorney doesn't want me looking exhausted in the court room. He threatened to file a complaint if I didn't get some sleep."

"He threatened to? You mean, you didn't want him to file a complaint? Surely that would have gotten you out of here!"

"Exactly. I did not choose these circumstances, but I do not want to leave them until the Lord is finished here. And now if you will excuse me, gentlemen, I am going to sleep." Kirk lay down, and within moments, was sound asleep.

Doug and Bill stared at him, then at each other, then back at Kirk.

Finally Bill spoke. "Do you think he really is asleep?"

"I'm going to find out," was Doug's reply. And he slapped Kirk's face, hard. And again. As far as Bill could tell, there was absolutely no reaction from Kirk. Doug just stared at Kirk for a moment. Then he asked Bill to help him turn Kirk over. That took a bit of doing, since Kirk wasn't helping. They miscalculated and ended up dumping Kirk on the floor. Bill landed on top of him, with his knee in Kirk's back. Doug happened to be in a position to observe Kirk's face, and was certain there had been no reaction.

Then Doug seemed to go berserk. He tried everything he could think of. He punched, kicked, pinched, pulled. He dragged Kirk around on the floor; he pulled his hair; he tickled his feet. Nothing got any sort of a reaction. But Kirk clearly wasn't simply unconscious. He occasionally moved his head, an arm, or a leg to get more comfortable. When they hauled him back onto the cot, he stretched and sighed contentedly. Doug lost it, and reached for Kirk's throat.

As Doug's hand began to squeeze Kirk's throat, he suddenly received a big electric shock, which threw him backwards and pulled Kirk off his cot. They both ended up on the floor, with Bill sprawled across Kirk's cot.

"What happened, Doug? Are you all right?"

"I think so, and I'm not sure what happened."

They again hauled Kirk onto the cot, and Doug examined his neck thoroughly, looking for anything that could have caused that electrical shock. He found nothing. They lay down in uneasy silence. Finally Bill spoke.

"You were going to kill him, weren't you?"

"No!" Slight pause before he amended it to "probably not."

"You remember what he said? You could do anything you wanted, but you better not try to kill him. It happened just like he said it would. Doug, if I were you, I'd leave this guy strictly alone."

"Shut up, Bill. I know what he said." But Doug couldn't leave it alone. After twenty minutes, he started in again. First he jerked on the handcuff; then he stabbed Kirk in the ribs with his elbow. He sat up and began to seriously cover the territory from head to foot, inflicting as much damage as he could to nerves and muscles. He wanted Kirk to remember this for days. But he was dissatisfied with the present lack of response. Throughout all of this, Bill sat on his cot watching, silent and uneasy.

Finally Doug could resist it no longer. He again moved to Kirk's head, this time with much more calculation. He dragged Kirk's hand upward so he could use both hands. With one hand he began pinching the skin on Kirk's face, ending up with pinching his nose shut. Kirk made no objection, but began breathing through his mouth. With the other hand, Doug pinched Kirk's shoulder and neck muscles, working his way toward the face. When he reached it, he slowly and carefully covered Kirk's mouth. Kirk simply moved his head, breaking the seal, and went on sleeping. After a few moments, Doug tried again. Same response.

The third time was different. This time Kirk did not move his head. He simply stopped breathing. Doug waited for him to struggle for air, the way even an unconscious person would do. Kirk never moved. When his face turned blue, Bill started yelling. Doug stared at Kirk, unable to believe that Kirk wouldn't fight this.

Suddenly Doug felt a tingling, burning sensation in both hands. They were surrounded by a blue glow which spread from Kirk's face to cover his entire body and anything within four inches of it. Still, Doug did not let go, and Kirk didn't move. The burning in his hands grew more intense, and finally Doug couldn't stand it. When he released his hold, Kirk took one deep breath, and went on sleeping. The blue glow did not disappear however.

Doug stared at his hands, which were going to need medical treatment, at Kirk, who was oblivious to what had occurred, and at Bill, who had found his tongue.

"Now look what you've done! I told you to leave him alone, but no, you couldn't do that! You had to go and make things worse! I don't know what this blue glow is, but it sure made a mess of your hands. You were actually going to kill him! I knew you were bad, Doug, but a killer? I didn't think you would do murder."

"Shut up, Bill. Don't you dare breathe a word of this. If you do, I'll kill you."

"Oh, now you're going to kill me too! How are you going to explain those hands? And this blue fire? Tell me that!"

Suddenly a deep voice from nowhere spoke. "Neither of you will say anything of this to anyone except Captain Kirk. Him you will tell everything, and you will heed his words. Meanwhile you will not speak at all until then."

Bill opened his mouth to continue his tirade, but no sound came out. Doug also tried to speak, but was unable. So there they sat until an orderly arrived with a meal. Taking one look, he dropped the trays of food and departed with haste. The outside guard looked in, relocked the door, and raised the alarm.

Lieutenant Commander Charles Byrd, the security chief, arrived shortly, and he called the medic on duty. Doug and Bill were taken to Sickbay for treatment. The med-scanner could not penetrate the blue glow, which the tricorder said was some kind of energy field. The doctor said he could give no opinion about the condition of Kirk as long as the energy field was in place. And he doubted if either Doug or Bill would be in shape for questioning before morning.

Puzzled and alarmed, Byrd ordered in four new guards. Aware that he was countermanding Graber's orders, he nevertheless wanted his best people in here. All four of these men had already been in here for a duty shift. But this situation called for brains, not just brawn. When they were assembled, he addressed them as a group.

"Bob, Jeff, Gil, George - I know you've all done your duty shift in here, but as you can see, we have an unusual situation. Doug and Bill, who were on duty, have been taken to Sickbay for treatment. They're both in shock, and Doug has burned hands. We assume the burns came from this force field, but neither of them are in shape for questioning. In my estimation, it is not safe to continue with the previous method of detainment. Handcuffs are out. So I want four of you in here at all times. Don't try to touch him, move him, or talk to him. And let me know as soon as there's any change. Questions?"

Bob spoke up. "Sir, if I can have the key to the handcuffs, I'd like to try something." Byrd handed over the key, somewhat reluctantly. Bob moved to Kirk's side and addressed the air. "Lord, I would like to remove the handcuffs. Will you permit me to do so without getting burned?"

Kirk stretched, sighed, and flung one arm outward to land on the neighboring cot. As Bob moved toward Kirk's wrist, the blue glow receded half-way up his forearm. Bob removed the handcuff, and the blue glow immediately returned to cover Kirk's hand. Bob stood up and waited a moment. Kirk turned over and flung out the other arm. The same thing happened to the force field, and Bob removed the other handcuff. Standing up, he gave both cuffs and key to the security chief.

Byrd stared at them both. "He's sleeping! How did you know? Who is this 'Lord' you were talking to? What do you know about all this that you haven't told me?"

"The Lord is Jesus Christ. Captain Kirk introduced me to Him. And I don't know any more about this force field than you do. I just thought it might work, and it did, sir."

"All right, then. Notify me of any change." And he left.

Going first to Sickbay, Byrd told the doctor what Bob had done, and his conclusion that Kirk was sleeping. The doctor was not optimistic about the effects on Kirk of such close proximity to that force field. Both Doug and Bill had been given sedatives and would be out for hours. So Byrd went next to the brig. The doctor was sleeping but the Vulcan was not.

As Byrd entered his cell, Spock sat up. "Good evening, sir. How may I help you?"

"I need your opinion on the condition of Captain Kirk." Spock raised an eyebrow. Byrd went on to explain all that he knew about what had occurred.

"You wish me to give you assurance that the force field is not damaging the Captain? I do not see how I can give you such assurance, nor why you should believe me over the doctor's opinion." In fact, he was fairly certain that Jim was fine, but his belief was not logical nor objectively supportable. "There are two things I can do for you. I'm certain the third would not be permitted."

"What's that?"

"If you took me to the Captain, I could attempt to penetrate the force field and mind-meld with the Captain. If successful, I would then know what his condition was."

"You'd likely get a badly burned hand out of the deal, but you're right, I can't permit it. I'll keep it in mind though. What are the other two things?"

"If the officers who were there cannot recall what happened, I could assist in recovering their memories, with their permission. Also, I can give you a logical analysis of the situation. You say the Captain appears to be sleeping, and the force field does not resemble any known technology. Was there anything that occurred immediately prior to this event that might have a bearing on the situation?"

"We don't know what happened for the three hours before we found him, since Doug and Bill can't tell us. Prior to that, he spent the entire day in consultation with his legal counsel."

"And if I may inquire, how did he spend the first three days of his detainment?"

"Chained between two security guards - new ones every six hours." As Spock raised an eyebrow, he added, "Base commander's orders."

"According to reports, how much sleep did he get during that time?"

"Very little. Only one team reported that he slept, and that was only five hours."

"Then it seems eminently reasonable that he would be asleep. The force field is the anomalous factor. Given the facts, there are at least four possible explanations. It may be that someone or something has removed the Captain, and replaced him with an image surrounded by this field, so that you cannot discern that it is an image, rather than the Captain himself.

"A second possibility is that the Captain possesses some unknown technology and has engaged this force field to separate himself from the guards. Although, if this is the case, one wonders why he waited four days before employing this technology. It is also possible that Doug or Bill possesses this technology. However there are two problems with that theory. It does not explain why Doug and Bill are both in shock. Also, if their purpose in employing this technology were to harm the Captain, then why is he peacefully sleeping?

"A fourth option is that the force field originates not with Doug, Bill, or the Captain, but some outside agent, and that its purpose is neither to harm nor remove him."

"And which of these options do you find most logical?" queried the security chief.

"The fourth, by process of elimination. The second and third options do not adequately explain the facts. In examining the first option, we must look at possible motive. While there are many enemies who would seize an opportunity to kidnap the Captain, I know of none that would bother to conceal the fact, nor of any that possess the technology that would be required.

"You are doubtless wondering if this is a trick perpetrated by myself or my colleagues for the purpose of rescuing the Captain. As you may be aware, we were specifically ordered by the Captain to make no such rescue attempt. Also, it would be highly illogical to attempt to avoid this court-martial hearing. Finally, if we had succeeded in removing the Captain, why would we ourselves remain in detention?"

"Your arguments are most persuasive. But if it is the fourth option, then who has done this, and for what purpose?"

"Without more data, any answers to those questions would be mere speculation."

Not being Jim Kirk, Byrd didn't ask Spock to speculate. Instead, he asked a different question.

"One thing I don't understand. Kirk was talking with his attorney all day. Why hasn't his attorney filed a complaint about the way his client is being treated?"

"The obvious answer to that is that the Captain convinced him not to."

"Why would he want to do that?!"

"Have you observed anything different about the officers who have spent six hours chained to the Captain? And if so, would you say the change is positive or negative?"

"Yes, I have. And I'd say overall, the change is positive. The violent, aggressive ones come out of there very quiet; the overly cautious ones have a new boldness. I don't know what he's doing to them, or if the change is permanent, but I'm about ready to schedule myself for a duty shift in there, just so I can find out what's going on."

"I think the Captain knows that he is having a positive effect on the men you send him, and he's willing to forego personal comfort in order to continue to have the opportunity to positively influence these men."

"Well, he's not influencing anybody while he's asleep!"

"That is why I suspect you will find that sleeping was not the Captain's idea."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Several hours later, Byrd was again in Sickbay, having verified that Kirk's condition had not changed.

"Good morning, Doctor. What can you tell me? How are they doing?"

"Well, Chuck, it's a little bit unusual. Bill's condition is stable. He's awake and alert, but for some reason, he can't talk. And I can find no medical explanation for his inability. Doug, on the other hand, gets hysterical every time he wakes up and realizes he can't talk, so we're keeping him sedated."

"Can I see Bill, then?"

"You can, but don't push him. I don't want him hysterical, too."

Byrd went in quietly. Bill was sitting up in bed.

"Good morning, Bill. How do you feel?"

Bill opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He shrugged his shoulders and spread his hands helplessly.

"Sorry, Bill. The doctor told me you couldn't talk. If I ask you some yes/no questions, can you nod or shake your head?"

Bill nodded.

"Is the reason you can't talk because of something that happened last night?"

Bill nodded.

"Did Captain Kirk do this to you?"

A pause, then Bill shook his head.

"Did the blue force field burn Doug's hands?"

A nod.

"Did Kirk create the force field?"

Bill shook his head.

"Do you know who did?"

A nod, and a shake.

"Yes and no? Was it Klingons?" No. "Romulans?" No. "Was it Kirk's crew?" No. "Any known enemy of the Federation?" No. "Was its purpose to harm Kirk?" No. "To harm you?" No. "Then what happened to Doug's hands was an accident?" No.

Byrd was confused and frustrated. "Did the force field render Kirk unconscious?" No. "Did it put him to sleep?" No. "He fell asleep afterwards?" No. "He was asleep before the force field was generated?" Yes.

Byrd changed tactics again. "Do you know what a Vulcan mind-meld is?" Yes. "Mr. Spock has volunteered his assistance. I can't order you to do this, and Spock won't do it without your permission, but I need your report. And these yes/no questions are too limiting. I just don't know what questions to ask. So will you let Mr. Spock probe your mind for the answers we need?"

A long pause. Finally, Bill nodded his head slowly.

xxxx

The doctor would not let Bill out of Sickbay, so Byrd brought Spock to Bill, chained between himself and Randy. When they arrived, he was surprised that Spock did not insist on removal of the handcuffs. Rather, he seemed almost to ignore their existence, while at the same time telegraphing his intentions so precisely that he found himself moving in harmony with Spock without quite realizing how.

Spock approached the bed and spoke directly to Bill.

"Have you been told why I am here?" Yes. "I understand your memory is clear, but you cannot speak. The chief has asked me to probe your mind for the answers he needs. Do you give permission?" Yes. "The procedure is not physically painful. Please relax."

Bill lay back on the pillow. Spock placed his fingers on Bill's face, and closed his eyes. He remained motionless for several minutes, then withdrew his hand, opened his eyes, and spoke to Byrd.

"Foremost in his mind is an urgent need to speak with Captain Kirk. I believe you will find his ability to speak will be restored when he talks to the Captain. Before he fell asleep, the Captain told them that they would not be able to wake him, but that no medical intervention would be necessary. He will wake up when he is rested. Given how little sleep he had had, I estimate he will sleep for at least twenty-four hours.

"I can learn nothing about the force field, however. There is a strong block in Bill's mind surrounding the details of last night. I cannot break the block without damaging his mind. It is not a memory block; he knows and remembers everything. Rather, he has been strictly forbidden to speak of it to anyone except Captain Kirk."

"Who forbade him? Kirk?"

"No. It was God Himself."

"You're joking!" Byrd was incredulous. "Bill thinks God told him not to tell?!"

"You misunderstand me. God did indeed forbid him to tell of it. God is also preventing him from speaking, and is blocking my access to the information in his mind. I strongly suspect that God is also responsible for generating the force field. We cannot find out why however, until the Captain wakes up and talks with Bill and Doug."

"You believe in God!?"

"Yes, I do. I would be glad to tell you why, but the story is somewhat lengthy. You would need several hours of available time."

"Perhaps later. Meanwhile all we can do is wait until Kirk wakes up? Not what I wanted to hear, but I thank you for your assistance."

"I am glad to be of service."

xxxx

Sam Cogley spent the morning with the prosecuting attorney. She spent the first hour trying to convince him not to defend Kirk. Without saying anything incriminating, she made it clear that there were some people very high up the ladder that were behind this. They had made it clear she was to get a conviction, even if she had to make up evidence. In her opinion, it was more than his career was worth to try to buck this.

When he refused to quit the case, she laid out for him the evidence they had against Kirk. Sam was dumbfounded. It did not fit with what Kirk had told him, but they had eye witnesses that said Kirk had done it.

"Two questions: If Kirk did what you say he did, why isn't Spock also being court-martialed? And, if the wrath of Starfleet is coming down on Kirk, what is their aim? What result are they after?"

"That's part of what's so odd about this case. If Kirk really did this, then at best, he should get dishonorable discharge; at worst, he should go to prison. But they only want to take his ship away from him and put him in command of some border outpost, where he can't make so much trouble. As for Spock, the official word is that Kirk as Captain is the one responsible. Unofficially it is felt that with Kirk out of the center seat, the Christian movement aboard the _Enterprise_ will collapse for lack of a leader. Spock is not seen as a threat in that regard. Personally, I can't believe Kirk will give up his command. He'll recant first."

"You don't know Jim Kirk very well, do you?"

xxxx

Sam had planned to meet with Kirk after lunch, but was told that Kirk was sleeping. Instead he met with each of the other six. Beginning with Chekov, he worked his way around to each one, saving Spock for last. Thanks to Graber's paranoia, they had not had any opportunity to build corroborating stories, so Sam was confident he was hearing truth from each of them. And their stories all matched what Kirk had already told him. Furthermore, nobody reacted to the mention of Eric Mechak's name. Yes, he was a security guard, and yes, he was one of the first believers, but no one seemed shocked and embarrassed, or tried to cover up any secret knowledge - until he got to Spock.

"And what can you tell me about Eric Mechak?"

"He is a security officer aboard the _Enterprise_; he is among those baptized first; and I believe he would count me his friend."

"What else can you tell me?"

"What, specifically, are you referring to?"

"Did you have any meetings, any private ... discussions?"

"I have had numerous personal encounters with Eric. What bearing does this have on the case against Captain Kirk?"

"Was Kirk present at any of these meetings?"

"Yes, on one occasion."

"The prosecution is basing its entire case on what happened in that meeting. I want to hear your version of the story."

"That is unfortunate. The contents of that meeting are personal and confidential. I am not at liberty to discuss it. I am curious, however, about what information they have concerning that meeting and how they obtained it."

"According to the prosecution, Captain Kirk physically tortured Eric Mechak until he agreed to become a Christian. And they have eye witnesses to prove it."

Spock looked up in alarm, or what passed for alarm in a Vulcan. "I am concerned for the safety of those who were there. Whoever is behind this cannot afford to risk any of them stepping forward with the truth. On the off chance that the opposition does not know who they are, I cannot tell you their names. However, you could ask Lieutenant Tanis to provide you with a printout of the current status of all security officers presently serving aboard the _Enterprise_, as well as those that have served within the past year."

"I can do that, but I rather got the impression that they expect Kirk to step forward with the truth. It's as if they know perfectly well that the case is a pack of lies, and they're just daring him to tell the truth. And when he does, they will throw us a curve ball and insist that he recant on his Christian beliefs or lose his command. I'm just not sure what form that curve ball will take, since I don't know what the truth is."

"I see no logical way in which the truth of that encounter could force the Captain to deny his Christian beliefs. If what you say is true, then I doubt that the opposition knows the truth either. What happens to their plans when the Captain refuses to tell them the truth?"

"I don't think that possibility has occurred to them."

After Sam left, Spock reflected on the meeting in question to make sure his analysis was accurate.

xx xx

"You want me to do what?!" Kirk sputtered.

"I told them you would come. Am I mistaken?" He kept his tone mild.

"Spock, that's not fair! You've got me backed into a corner."

"You should be used to it by now." He was still not good at teasing Jim, but this line seemed perfect.

Kirk laughed. "Okay, I'll come. Just promise me one thing. The purpose of this is not for their entertainment."

He quickly sobered. "No, Captain, it is not. They have much emotional pain that is deeply buried. This was the first indication I have had that they might be interested in something other than driving me away."

"So what exactly do you want me to do?"

"I would prefer not to discuss it in advance."

"Okay, but don't think I don't know what I'm getting myself into."

"I don't doubt it, Captain."

xx xx

At 0100 that night, they met at the free-fall court. When Kirk followed Spock into the room, the five men gathered there jumped to attention.

Kirk's automatic response was, "At ease, gentlemen. As you were." He turned to Spock. "Why do I get the impression these gentlemen are surprised to see me?"

"I did not tell them the identity of the friend I promised to bring."

"I see. Well, gentlemen, you have every right to feel set-up, and I know exactly how you feel. But since we're all here, let me give you some assurances. I came because Spock asked me to. All he told me was that he wanted me to demonstrate that humans can control their response to pain. It follows logically that this would not be possible unless there was some pain to respond to.

"I have known about these meetings from the beginning. Spock did not tell me; I have other sources of information. So while I have a pretty good idea what goes on down here, I have not shut it down, nor have I refused to come tonight. Since I have agreed to participate, please be reassured that there will be absolutely no official repercussions as a result. Nor will I personally hold any of you responsible for whatever you do to me."

In Spock's admittedly inexpert opinion, the men did not believe Jim. That conclusion was born out by the helpless shrug Jim gave him. Spock turned to Mechak. "Do you wish to begin with our usual activity, or with my demonstration?"

"You've proved that's a waste of time, so go ahead with the demonstration." Kirk started to remove his uniform. "You really do know what's coming," Mechak said with some astonishment.

"Yes, I do. You can skip the part about scaring me to death, though, because it won't work. And if it won't ruin the demonstration, I'd prefer to skip the blindfold."

"Indeed, it is essential that you be able to see his eyes," Spock added.

"Okay, we'll do it with open eyes. On your feet, men," Mechak ordered.

Observing how reluctantly they stood up, Jim tried again. "Spock, they really don't want to do this. Could you do it yourself?"

"I had considered the idea, but I cannot achieve the required intensity with just two hands."

"I understand." Jim then went to each of the men and gripped their arms, making eye contact with each one, and persuading them with the force of his personality, as only he could. One by one, they all agreed. Then Jim turned to Mechak. "I'm doing this because Spock asked me to. But I'm also doing this for you - because I care about you, about your pain, about your life." He paused. "I'm ready when you are."

"The last time Spock did this, he kept his attention entirely focused on my face, completely ignoring what we were doing to him. It was as if he was unaware of it. There was no sign of pain in his voice, on his face, or in his eyes. He stood relaxed, but completely motionless for over two hours. When we were finished, he told me that humans can do this too. I didn't believe him. You are here to prove he's right."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Spock roused from his meditation long enough to consume the meal that was brought him. Shortly thereafter, he returned to his memory of the meeting with Lt. Mechak.

xx xx

"Any instructions, Spock?" Kirk asked.

"I will position myself behind you with my back to the proceedings, so that you cannot see me, nor I, you. In this way we can assure them that all our communication is audible."

"Understood."

"It is unfortunate that you are unafraid. For purposes of this demonstration, let us pretend that you are full of fear." As Spock continued calmly giving instructions, he heard Jim's very convincing performance of the fear he was faking. There were some things that Jim feared, but this was not one of them. Not so of Mechak.

Sure enough, as predicted, Jim accurately guessed the reason he had asked for this performance. Following a collapse to the floor accompanied by hoarse begging, Jim moved to Mechak's side and whispered, "That's how it was for you, wasn't it?"

"Yes," he whispered. "All these years I've been hiding it. How did you know?"

"I didn't. Spock did. I just did what he told me to."

"But it was so real. I could feel it - your fear." Mechak could hardly say the word.

"The fear you felt was your own. Is my skin clammy? Is my heart beating fast?"

"It was an act?" The incredulity was obvious.

"Yes, completely unrehearsed - I had no idea where Spock was headed - but yes, it was an act."

"Then you aren't afraid?"

"No, I'm not. I'll prove it to you. Let's do it again."

He was aghast. "No, no, you can't!"

"Why not?"

Spock replied, "This will be considerably worse because you are already injured."

"I am? Oh well, it doesn't matter."

"It _does_ matter! I couldn't stand to watch you fall apart twice!"

"I promise you, I won't. Trust me. Here, take my hands. If you see any signs of fear, you can pull me out of it."

Spock began again. "Captain, do you have any fear?"

"No, Spock, I don't."

"If you did, what would it look like?"

"Spock, you're frightening him. Can't we just skip this part?"

"Very well. But he needs to see, not what you can do, but what he could do."

"Okay, but right now, he's too upset. Can we come back to that later?"

"We can. It will be more difficult for you."

"Is that a problem?"

"It is not. As the procedure begins then, you check to be sure your body is relaxed and able to maintain its present position for the indefinite future. You will keep your eyes focused on the lieutenant's face. I want him to be able to see into your soul. Lieutenant, can you tell me what you see in the Captain's eyes?"

"He is very calm, almost peaceful. I think I see a trace of joy, but that is not possible. But most clearly I see that he cares about me."

"Watch what happens to that love, joy, and peace when the pace intensifies."

"I can't believe this! It doesn't disappear, it increases!"

"And do you see any pain in his eyes, or on his face?"

"No, nor any fear either. You win, humans _can_ do this, but I sure don't see how."

"The demonstration is not over. Watch closely. Captain, I want you to stop giving the pain to Jesus. Feel the pain; welcome it; accept it; let it overwhelm you. Express that pain in your face and eyes. Lieutenant, what happens to the love, joy, and peace?"

"This is incredible! Absolutely unbelievable! I see agony on his face, and deep pain in his eyes. But the pain is riding on top of the love, joy, and peace. And it can't crack them! They're rock solid!"

"Now Lieutenant, we return to the issue of fear. Are you willing to look at it?"

"Will he crack up?"

"What do you think?"

Kirk spoke with difficulty, because of the pain. "No, I won't. Trust me."

They waited several minutes for his answer, but finally Mechak agreed.

"Captain, with your permission, I can help you."

"Go ahead, Spock."

Spock turned and briefly put his hand on Kirk's face. Then he returned to his former position, and explained to the lieutenant. "I was concerned that he would lose touch with the pain in an effort to give a convincing performance of the fear. So instead I have given him a real sense of fear. What do you see in his eyes now?"

"I see the fear and the pain interlaced, and they're building on each other. Oh no! He's going to crack!"

"Calm yourself, Lieutenant. Do you wish to add your fears to his? Is there tension in his hands?"

"No, there isn't, but his eyes..."

"Where is the love, joy, and peace?"

"It's still there, but..."

"Lieutenant, the Captain is still in full control of himself. It is true that he must deal with the fear, or he will eventually lose that control. We are waiting for you to be calm enough to observe how he deals with the fear."

"Okay," he breathed. "I'll try."

"The first step in dealing with the fear is to face it, acknowledge, and accept it. Captain, describe your fear."

"I'm afraid that tomorrow morning I won't be able to sit down, and the entire Bridge crew will laugh at me."

"Captain, that is not logical."

Kirk laughed.

The lieutenant was astonished. "Sir, how can you laugh at a time like this?"

"It's a complicated joke."

"Lieutenant, what do you see in the Captain's eyes as a result of his laughter?"

"The pain and fear are significantly reduced."

"Exactly. Laughter is a natural pain medication. But you must be able to find something genuinely funny to laugh about."

"I do not understand how the ridicule of the crew could be funny."

"It isn't and they won't. Spock, I don't think I can explain this without turning off the pain, and these guys probably need a break anyway."

"Very well, provided _you_ stay focused. Take five, gentlemen."

They collapsed on the floor in exhaustion, but Spock, Kirk, and the lieutenant did not move.

"What do you see in the Captain's eyes now?"

"Like flipping a switch, it's gone! Not a sign of pain or fear on his face or in his eyes. And I happen to know the pain doesn't disappear just because they quit."

"And the love, joy, and peace?"

"It's there, as strong as ever."

"To explain, then," began Kirk. "First, you need to know that the statement I made was completely false. I am not afraid of tomorrow morning. I knew before I came down here tonight what the consequences would be. Furthermore, when I walk on that Bridge tomorrow, no one will laugh. There will be an uncomfortable silence while they try to ignore my condition, just like we've been doing with Spock for the last three weeks. I, on the other hand, will try my best to get them to laugh. And when they do, I will laugh with them, the tension will be eased, and life can go on as usual.

"Spock knows all this, and there were any number of objections he could have raised. But he is sufficiently flustered and uncomfortable with the entire proceedings, that all he could manage was the traditional, all-inclusive statement about logic. Over the years, I have learned that he uses this statement whenever he does not want to emotionally process whatever I have just said. So I was laughing because Spock is uncomfortable.

"But that's not all. Spock knew I was looking for something to laugh about. He knew I needed to laugh; he knew you needed to see me laugh; and he didn't object to reminding me how uncomfortable he is. So he delivered the one statement nearly guaranteed to produce the desired result. So I was also laughing because Spock knows so well how to push my buttons. Lastly, I was laughing for joy, because there was a time not too long ago that I thought this kind of interaction between us was over."

"Spock is uncomfortable? You could have fooled me. How do you know? Why is he uncomfortable? Why is it funny? Why isn't he mad at you for laughing at him? And why doesn't he object to our talking about him?"

"That's a lot of questions. Spock, do you want to answer any of that?"

"I would be pleased to have you answer his questions. Let me only confirm that I am uncomfortable; I am not angry; and I do not object to your talking about me."

"First, how did I know: I told you the only clue I had, but I would have known without any clues at all, if I had thought about it. For obvious reasons, I wasn't thinking about it. Spock is uncomfortable for two reasons: First, we would each much rather endure than ask the other to. Were our roles reversed, I would be at least as uncomfortable as he, and not handling it nearly as well. Secondly, this whole situation bears a marked resemblance to our recent encounter with First and his people, and he does not like the comparison.

"As to why it's funny and why he isn't angry, the second question is easier to answer. The Bridge crew laughs at themselves and each other at every opportunity. No one is safe from teasing, and Spock gets more than his share. Also, he is perfectly capable of giving as good as he gets, though he usually prefers to play the straight-man. So he's not angry because we do this all the time, and getting angry is against the rules. The victim has to laugh at himself, or he's out of the game. As to why this particular thing is funny, it's hard to explain. You see, Spock is so unflappable, it's just that..." He paused. "Spock, I know you're laughing at me."

"How could he be? And how could you know that? He hasn't made a sound."

"Vulcans don't laugh audibly. Spock?"

"The Captain is correct. I am amused because he does not want to admit he enjoys seeing me squirm. Incidentally, the sentiment is mutual."

At this, Kirk laughed uproariously.

"Did you hear what he said? Spock just admitted to enjoying watching me squirm!" And he burst into renewed laughter. "Turn around, Spock. I want them to see what a laughing Vulcan looks like. Look closely, gentlemen. It's all in the eyes. You too, Eric. Just because I'm looking at you doesn't mean you have to look at me."

"You're right! He _is_ laughing. I can see it in his eyes. But it's a joyful laughter, not a mocking laughter. Why, Captain? Why is Spock full of joy?"

"The answer to that is the answer to your last question. Spock does not object to our talking about him because it supports his primary goal, that of establishing a relationship with you. You willingly listened to me talk _about_ him when you would not willingly talk _to_ him. Spock has been full of joy ever since you started asking questions. And now if I've answered all of them, we can return to our primary activity. Sorry gentlemen, break time's over."

"No, wait! You can't! Not a third time!"

"Not this again. Why not? We aren't finished."

"Why on earth do you _want_ to do this?"

"Eric, how many times did you endure this?"

Eric was openly sobbing. "Three. And it was absolutely awful, and nowhere near as long as what you've done already."

"Eric, what happened the third time?"

"They had to hold me down, and I made so much noise, they quit. They were afraid of getting caught."

"Eric, it doesn't have to be that way. Look at me. What do you see in my eyes?"

"The same love, joy, and peace that's been there from the beginning."

"And it will still be there when we're finished. Nothing that happens tonight will shake it. Tomorrow, next week, next month, it will still be there. Eric, I need you to watch this third time. Please don't make me beg."

Eric slowly got himself under control. Finally, he took a deep breath and nodded his head.

"Okay, Spock, I think we're ready."

"Very well. Gentlemen, you may begin. Jim, I want you to feel each touch. Embrace the pain. Accept it. Let it overwhelm you. Let it build in wave upon wave of pain. Now I want you to add back the pain from before that you have been blocking. Let it take you to a new level of agony. And as the pace intensifies, the pain becomes simply unbearable, and yet you continue to accept it. Eric, what do you see?"

"His eyes are deep pools of agony. His mouth is open, but no sound comes out. His breathing is very ragged, and his hands are shaking."

"Do not grab his wrists, or attempt to stop the shaking. Do I assume correctly that he is not grabbing yours?"

"No, he's not. But how much more of this can he take?!"

"A great deal. He is still fully in control of his response to the pain. Everything you see, he is doing on purpose, because I told him to show you his pain. Do you still fear that he may be emotionally unable to cope with this?"

"Yes... No... I don't know," he finally admitted.

"Let me give you some additional information that may help. In my many years' association with the Captain, he has suffered physical pain of many kinds. Not once has he been emotionally incapacitated. His only frustration is that his body cannot endure limitlessly. Never has he remotely approached the limit of his will to endure. Therefore, I am certain that he will lose consciousness before he will admit that he cannot tolerate any more. Secondly, he is perfectly capable of getting himself out of this deep well of agony. He does not need my assistance. His instinct will be to vigorously fight the loss of consciousness, but because he has placed himself under my direction, he will not do that. Instead he will wait and do only what I tell him to do. And incidentally, he does not know what my intentions are."

"Are you saying that for all he knows, you may _want_ him to pass out?"

"That is correct. He does not know. But he is not disturbed. It was more difficult for him emotionally to pretend he couldn't handle this, than to wait and see whether I will allow him to avoid losing consciousness."

"What happened to the fear you gave him? I don't see any sign of it."

"He is still blocking it. I could ask him to add it back, but it will not produce the result you expect."

"Do it anyway."

"Very well. Captain?" He paused. "Eric, what do you see now?"

"Well you're right; it's not what I expected. Yes, there's fear in his eyes, but less pain. His mouth is closed. And while the shaking seems unchanged, his breathing is definitely less ragged. I do not understand."

"What you see is the result of devoting less of his attention to feeling the pain. And now I wish him to be able to talk with you. Watch what happens when I give him something else to think about. Captain, how do you reconcile the fact that I am uncomfortable with this situation, and yet I enjoy watching you squirm?"

Kirk smiled, his breathing returned to normal, and his hands stopped shaking. Only his eyes still showed pain and fear, and even they held a twinkle of amusement as well. "I admit to myself that not everything about you is logical, though of course, I wouldn't dream of telling you that."

"Indeed. Please tell Eric what you are afraid of."

"I am not afraid of the pain, or the fear. I am not afraid of losing consciousness. I am not afraid of anything Spock might tell me to do. I am afraid of failing. At first, I thought failure would be an inability to handle what happens tonight. I have since realized that isn't it. Failure would be having you walk out of here still unwilling to get to know Spock."

"Why aren't you afraid of the pain?"

"I suppose because it's familiar territory. I've been there many times; there aren't any secrets left." He paused. "Spock, Eric needs to see me conquer the fear of pain. Could you give me that fear?"

"Yes, I could. However, since you will be unable to talk, I suggest you explain the process first."

"The first step in conquering any fear is to identify and accept it. In this case, we know before we begin what the fear is. So I will begin by saying 'yes, I am afraid of the pain.' As long as you deny its existence, you cannot conquer the fear, because it will continue to control your behavior in ways you may not even be aware of. The second step is to do the thing you fear. It's a decision of the will, to refuse to be controlled by the fear. It's saying, 'yes I am afraid, but I'm going to do this anyway.' Conquering fear should not be equated with having no fear. You may eventually reach that point with some things, but you conquer fear by refusing to be controlled by it. In this situation, I will remove the pain blocks even though I will be afraid to do so. I will expect the pain to be worse than it was before, and even though it will terrify me, I will go there anyway. And we'll see what happens."

"Aren't you afraid of losing control?"

"I'm not now. I probably will be then. But promise me this. Whatever happens, do not pull me out. You can yell or swear at me, even slap my face. But there must not be any possibility of rescue. Do you understand?"

"I think so. But I do not see how you can do this, or why you _want_ to."

"Remember the love, joy, and peace you've seen in my eyes? It's because of the love that I want to, because of the peace I can, and because of the joy, I will have no regrets. But I am doing this for you, so if you can't watch, we won't do it."

"Why do you want to do this? What do you hope to accomplish as a result?"

"You are carrying a great deal of emotional baggage. I believe this could be a significant part of your healing. My only intent is to demonstrate what could be done. What you choose to do after that is up to you."

"Okay then, I'll watch, just so long as I'm not committing to more than that."

"Understood. Spock?"

xxxx

Sam beamed aboard the _Enterprise_ for a private conference with Lieutenant Tanis. He laid out the situation along with Spock's concern for the security officers.

"Eric Mechak, you said? I think he's in Sickbay right now. His buddies brought him in a few hours ago with a case of food poisoning."

"Perhaps it would be a wise precaution to investigate for evidence of foul play. But I'd be careful - whoever's behind this has a lot of clout."

"I'll get that printout Spock wants, too. And I think I know how to find out who else was there. Something Eric said in his testimony last year. I remember it because it seemed odd that he would say so little about it, but I think that meeting was in the free-fall court. And if so, then Harb Tanzer knows who was there."

Fifteen minutes later Sam had the names of the other four officers who had been present at that meeting. According to Tanzer, there had been several such meetings, but only one that Kirk had attended. And in Tanzer's opinion, it had been the other officers who had tortured Kirk and Spock, not the other way around. But he had no proof, just circumstantial evidence.

According to the computer printout, two of those four officers had been transferred off the _Enterprise_ about three months previously. A third had been killed in the line of duty about six months ago. The fourth was still aboard, and in fact, had been one of those who brought Eric in. They found him at Eric's bedside in Sickbay. Eric was too sick to talk, but they talked with Carl at some length.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Yes, Lieutenant. Sit down, please. This is Sam Cogley. He's working on the court-martial case. How much do you know about this?"

"Only what everyone knows, sir. The _Enterprise_ is tied up here because the Captain's being court-martialed."

"Do you know what the charges are?"

"Rumor says it's religious persecution, but that's ridiculous."

"Why is it ridiculous?" interrupted Sam.

"Well, because ... You mean, it's true!?" Sam nodded. "Oh, brother! Whoever thought that up hasn't been on this ship for the last twelve months!"

"Explain." That was Tanis.

"Well, several things, sir. The Captain has gone out of his way to separate his position from his Christian faith. Anytime he speaks at one of our meetings, he takes off his uniform, puts on a flannel shirt, and pretends he's not the Captain. He officiates at all the baptisms, but he does it blindfolded, so he won't know who's a Christian and who's not. And right from the start, he's insisted that all gatherings of believers be in public places, open to non-believers. He has zero tolerance for an us-them mentality."

"That's very intriguing," Sam responded. "But the prosecution seems most interested in a certain private meeting that took place last year on the free-fall court. According to my information, you were present at that meeting, as was Captain Kirk, Mr. Spock, Lieutenant Mechak, and several others."

Carl paled slightly, took a deep breath, and squared his shoulders. "I am not at liberty to discuss it."

Sam changed tactics. "Tell me about Eric's bout of food poisoning."

"Well, sir, it's the strangest thing. They're calling it food poisoning, but I don't see how it could be. We all ordered the same thing, and no one else got sick. 'Course, Eric ate twice as much, 'cause he had mine, too. I wasn't hungry."

Sam and Tanis exchanged looks.

"I'll talk to Dr. M'Benga." Tanis left.

Sam put on a confidential tone. "Carl, Spock wouldn't tell me what went on in that meeting either. But he was highly concerned for your safety. Whoever's behind this tried to silence you and Eric tonight. They succeeded with Eric. They do not want you to tell the truth, because if no one tells what really happened, then their version stands unchallenged."

"What is their version?"

"That Captain Kirk tortured Eric until he agreed to become a Christian."

Carl was clearly shocked. "No! That's _not_ what happened at all!"

"I tend to agree with you, but unless I can produce someone willing to tell the truth, I can't prove them wrong."

"What did the Captain say?"

"I haven't talked to him yet, but even if he tells me what happened, and I'm not at all sure that he will, I'm going to need the testimony of someone besides the Captain."

At this point, Tanis returned. "Dr. M'Benga confirms our fears. With this additional data, he was able to explain several anomalous factors. Eric was poisoned. In the dose they intended, he would just have been thoroughly sick for a week. At the double dose he got, the symptoms won't last any longer, but he'll be considerably sicker, and it could be life-threatening.

"Sam, if this meets with your approval, I think the best thing for Carl is to pretend he's sick too. And I'll post a guard for the two of them."

"I agree, that would be better than the brig, either here or on the base. Since we don't know who's behind this, we don't know that the brig would be safe. And Carl, this is for your own safety, as much as to protect my star witness. You think about what I said, and I'll be back to see you tomorrow."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Kirk woke up at 0130, a little over 24 hours after falling asleep. His first sensation upon waking was that of feeling warm and relaxed. As he stretched, he realized he was not in his own bed. Touching the sides of the cot, memory returned, and he wondered how long he had slept. Then he became aware of voices.

"... how to reach the Chief with your love."

"Lord, please keep the Captain safe from this force field, and restore Doug and Bill - especially Doug, Lord, he needs Your healing touch in so many-"

"Hey, Gil, look! The blue glow is gone!"

Startled, Kirk opened his eyes. Staring down at him were four familiar faces: Gil, Bob, Jeff, and George. Kirk smiled and sat up.

"So they've doubled the guard. Good morning, gentlemen."

"Good morning, Captain. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be? And what's this about a blue glow and a force field? What happened to Doug and Bill? And how long was I asleep anyway?"

"That's a lot of questions."

"Sorry to interrupt, Gil, but our orders were not to talk to him, and to get the Chief immediately if there was any change."

"You're right, George," Gil sighed. "Okay, Jeff, go get the Chief." He paused thoughtfully. "We don't have any orders against talking _about_ him, though. So Bob, how long do you figure the Captain was asleep?"

They managed to answer all four questions in less than two minutes. When the Chief walked in, they came to attention, and Kirk stood up.

"Lt. Roberts, report."

"Yes, sir," Gil responded. "A few minutes ago, the force field disappeared, the Captain opened his eyes, sat up, and said, 'Good morning.' I sent Jeff to notify you, sir."

"Anybody have anything else to report?" No one did. "All right, gentlemen. Clear the room. I'm going to interrogate the prisoner myself. And let me know when the doctor arrives."

"Do you want any backup, sir?" asked George.

"Do I need any?"

"No, sir, I guess not, sir."

"Dismissed." They filed out and shut the door. "Sit down, Captain. The doctor will be here shortly. Before he gets here, I want a complete report on what happened last night."

Kirk kept it very brief, explaining calmly that the Lord had kept him asleep.

"You _told_ them they would not be able to wake you? Isn't that asking for trouble?"

"I expected them to attempt to wake me, yes. But with all due respect, sir, in my opinion, at least one of them would have made trouble, even if I had said nothing. I did not want them to be concerned about my condition medically. But more than that, I wanted it clear that it was the Lord's power that was keeping me asleep."

"And what about the force field?"

"I know nothing about it except what I overheard being discussed just now. As I understand it, Doug and Bill are the only ones with any first-hand information about that. I slept through the whole thing."

At this point the doctor arrived. "Come on in, Doc. Kirk says he's fine, and he looks okay to me, but I still want medical verification."

The doctor ran his med-scanner over Kirk, muttered at it, recalibrated, and did it again. Shaking his head, he tested the machine on himself. "Hmm, scanner appears to be working, but I don't believe what it's telling me."

"Why not?" Chuck was alarmed. Kirk smiled and said nothing. The doctor put down the scanner and spoke to Kirk.

"Lie down. I want to verify some of these readings." He poked and prodded as only a doctor can. Finally he said, "Strip down. I want to see your skin." Kirk readily complied.

Chuck could see no sign of any burns. The only mark on him was a series of long thin scars across his chest, as if he'd been clawed by a big cat, or maybe a bear. The doctor asked about them.

"The story behind these scars is long and involved. I'd be glad to share it when you have a few hours. Bones keeps nagging me, but the injury doesn't bother me, so the only reason for getting it fixed is cosmetic, and the truth is, I just haven't bothered."

"Okay, you can get dressed." The doctor turned to Chuck. "Well, I can't begin to tell you why, but this man is perfectly healthy, and he shouldn't be. No skin burns like Doug's; no raised toxin levels or swelling in the extremities, both of which I would expect from a 24-hour shutdown of his system. And look at his wrists - you remember what they looked like yesterday. Not only are they healed, but there's no indication they were ever injured. Even if I had slapped some synth-skin on them yesterday, which I couldn't because of that force field, there's no way they could be completely healed in 24 hours.

"Last but definitely not least, no sign of Starship Captain Syndrome. Mind you, it's not an official disease, but the effects of long-term stress on the body are well-documented. It's definitely a hazardous occupation. The good ones last about ten years, then get promoted out. The bad ones get themselves killed before then. This man has been a captain for twenty years, but I don't find any of the typical effects of long-term stress. In fact, if I didn't know better, I'd say he's not in the least worried about this upcoming court-martial, or even about a return to your handcuff torture.

"I don't mind telling you, I'm completely baffled. I'd like an opportunity to consult with his CMO. I understand you're holding Dr. McCoy in the brig."

"That's right. I'm sure we can arrange a conference."

"Tell Bones I said to tell you everything," Kirk interrupted. "But by way of preface, let me say that I attribute all of this to the power of Jesus Christ working in my life."

The doctor departed. Chuck regarded Kirk in silence for a few minutes. Then going to the door, he issued several instructions: "Gil, you and Bob take Kirk to the shower, handcuffs coming and going. Jeff, get breakfast for three delivered ASAP. George, get over to Communications. Tell Lt. Johnson now's his chance, if he can get here inside of fifteen minutes. Gil, you'll have to man the desk for the rest of the shift. I'm going to be tied up in here."

"Understood." "Aye, sir."

xxxx

When Kirk returned from the shower, breakfast had arrived. The chief and another man were already eating. They stood up; Gil handled the handcuff exchange; then he and Bob departed. Kirk called a cheery, "Have a good day!" as they closed and locked the door.

Staring impassively at Kirk, the security chief said nothing. Neither did the other man, who, from his ID badge, wasn't even in security at all. Since they were clearly waiting for him, Kirk spoke.

"Well, you're both obviously here by choice, so I'm curious. But that can wait til after breakfast. Your food's getting cold."

"So's yours, but how do you propose to eat like this?" The man from communications held up his right wrist, which was chained to Kirk's left.

"It's not difficult, and I've had a lot of practice in the last few days." Kirk got them seated on the cots, a food tray in front of each of them. "Now, you just eat normally. Avoid sudden movement if you can, since I'll be matching every move you make. You too, Chief. I'll eat when you're done."

The security chief stared at Kirk for a moment, not quite believing that Kirk, who hadn't eaten in over 24 hours, was going to sit and watch them eat, while his own food grew cold. But he said nothing, finishing his meal as quickly as possible. When it was time for Kirk to eat, however, he decided not to cooperate. Lt. Johnson tried, with middling success, to keep the chain slack, so Kirk could eat. Chuck however, made his arm limp, requiring Kirk to lift the added weight with every mouthful. His only reaction was a knowing smile, as if he understood perfectly what Chuck was doing and why.

"Thank you, gentlemen. A most enjoyable breakfast. I appreciate your cooperation."

"That's your idea of cooperation? Chuck wasn't even trying to be helpful!"

"Perhaps, but consider this: Together you two could have made it impossible for me to eat anything." He paused, and Chuck still remained silent. "So, my name's Jim. I understand you volunteered for this duty."

"Yes, sir. I'm Lt. Trevor Johnson, Communications, sir. I'm a friend of Chuck's. Yesterday at lunch, he was complaining about how you've turned his department upside down. And I've seen what you did to Randy and Joe and some others. So I asked if there was any way he could get me in here. I have to be on duty by 0700, but Chuck said I'd be out of here at 0600."

"You must be pretty serious to give up a night's sleep for the privilege of being chained and locked up. What is it that you want from this experience?"

"I want you to do for me what you did for Randy."

"But I didn't do anything for Randy. Mind you, I'm not saying nothing happened, but I didn't do it. Besides you don't strike me as a Randy-type. You've already displayed far more tolerance for this situation than he had. So can you be more specific about the change you're looking for?"

Trevor took a deep breath. "It may not show like Randy's, but I too have a problem with uncontrolled anger."

"Really?" Kirk glanced at Chuck for confirmation, but received only the same poker-faced stare. Turning back to Trevor, he prayed for wisdom. "I believe that I can help you, but there are certain things you need to understand. First, what happens here tonight will be unlike Randy's experience. For Randy, I was a problem, and these hours were to be endured, not used productively. You have come seeking help, a very different attitude and foundation upon which to build.

"Secondly, if I am to be of help to you, there must be no awareness of rank or position between us. We must be Jim and Trevor, not Captain and Lieutenant, not prisoner and guard. This means you will not address me as 'sir'; you will forget that I am Captain Kirk of the _Enterprise_, being held for court-martial; I'm just Jim, a friend. Furthermore, so far as is possible, you will forget the existence of these handcuffs, as well as the presence of Chuck."

Kirk turned briefly to Chuck. "This means that if I have to move, you will have to pick up my non-verbal cues, because I will neither speak to you nor mention the cuffs. Any objections?" No response. "I'll take that as a 'no'." And he turned back to Trevor. To illustrate his point, as he continued to talk, he repositioned their seating without saying a word about it. When he was finished, he and Trevor sat facing each other, with Chuck to one side. Kirk was pleased that Chuck picked up his cues quickly, and readily cooperated.

"The third issue is the trust factor. You don't know me well enough to trust me. Do you have the courage to risk the possibility that I might not be worthy of trust? To do what I ask even if it seems crazy? To open your soul to my view, and be vulnerable to any hurt I might cause you? Further, do you trust Chuck enough to let him see this, to know you this deeply? Chuck will be here long after I'm gone. Do you trust him to keep silent about what happens here, at least as it would affect your service record?"

"Yes, I trust Chuck. He's one of the few people that know about my problem with anger. We talked about whether I could trust you. I wouldn't be here if I hadn't already decided to take that risk." He turned to look at Chuck. "But we didn't talk about this silent, poker-face routine. I have no idea why he's doing this."

Chuck didn't even look at Trevor, but kept his eyes glued on Kirk.

"Don't worry about it. I know why he's doing it; it has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me. He's not angry with you. In fact, he cares a great deal about what happens here tonight, and he trusts you implicitly."

"He does? How do you know?"

Chuck was startled. And only just barely managed to conceal his reaction. At least he thought he concealed it, but if Kirk was that perceptive, there was no telling what he knew.

"Logical deduction from the situation." And he smiled at Chuck, as if to say, 'I know very well what I just did.'

_So, he's teasing me. Very interesting,_ thought Chuck. _That means, one, that he's in command of this situation enough to be able to tease, and two, that he trusts me enough to risk doing it._ But Kirk was talking again.

"The fourth and most important thing you need to understand is that the power for change does not come from me. It comes from the Lord Jesus Christ." And Kirk briefly shared the Gospel. "Now, as powerful a story as that is, it's only a story until you've experienced the Lord yourself. Tonight I will show you the Lord's power at work in my life. You may well get temporary relief from your anger problem. But lasting change will only come when you decide that you want the Lord to rule your own life. Now do you have any questions before we go on?"

"I think I understand everything you said, except for one thing. How do you expect to forget the handcuffs exist?" And he held up his right wrist.

"I don't. I expect _you_ to forget about them. Let me show you something." Kirk explained the mirror game and played it briefly, to illustrate how he would so move in harmony with Trevor that he would never feel tension on his wrist.

"Now, tell me about your anger problem."

"Well, most of the time, I'm fine. Just once in a while, I have this overpowering sense of rage. It's completely unreasonable, and I don't know what to do with it."

"What triggers the anger?"

"I'm not sure, really. Little things, like if someone crowds my personal space, or messes with my stuff, or calls me names."

"Like what? Anything in particular?"

Trevor paused, ever so slightly, before replying. "No, not really. I know they're just teasing and I should laugh it off, but I can't."

Kirk knew Trevor was hiding something, but he ignored it for the time being. "So what do you do?"

"I clam up, put on a poker-face, and get out of there as soon as possible. If I'm off duty, I go to the gym and work it off. If I'm on duty, I have to stuff it for hours sometimes. It leaks out in other ways, and that can get me in trouble."

"I can imagine. Tell me about crowding your space. Do you mean like getting jostled in the 'lift?"

"Maybe, but mostly it happens when somebody purposely gets in my face."

"And is your reaction to that any different than the name-calling?"

"Only in its intensity. I really want to punch him a good one. I can't manage to stuff it for more than a few minutes."

"Have you ever expressed your anger, either verbally or physically, to the person you were angry with?"

Long hesitation. "Once. I was four years old."

"And what happened?" Kirk asked softly.

"My dad laughed at me. Then he got very quiet, deadly quiet, and he said, 'Don't you ever, ever do that again.' And I haven't. Not to him or anyone else."

Kirk paused before asking the next, crucial question. "Trevor, what did your dad call you that made you so angry?"

Trevor's response was little more than a whisper. "Pipsqueak. He called me a pipsqueak." Then with a chuckle, he tried to make light of it. "Silly of me really, to get angry, because I _was_ small."

"But the way he said it made you feel how?"

Trevor's face however, had acquired a blank look. "I don't know. Angry, I guess."

"Do you realize you've just put up a defensive wall against me?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're not connecting with me heart-to-heart, like you were just a few minutes ago. You've locked me out emotionally. There's something we just got close to that's so emotionally painful, that you're not willing to let me see it at all. In fact, I think you're hiding it from yourself too. Remember, we talked about trust and courage?"

"Yes, but if I don't know myself, how can I tell you?"

"I think I know a way to get at this, but it sounds crazy even to me, so if you'll excuse me, I want to check this out with the Lord. I don't want to do more damage than good." He was silent for about thirty seconds, eyes closed, head cocked as if listening. Opening his eyes, Kirk continued. "I'm getting a green light from the Lord. So now, you have a decision to make. Will you put yourself under my direction, let me take you where you do not want to go, agree now to do whatever I ask - and I guarantee you won't want to do it - all for the sake of getting freedom from bondage to anger?"

Trevor stared into Kirk's eyes for a long moment. Finally he said, "Yes, I will."

Kirk smiled, aware that this was a turning point. "Thank you for trusting me."

Chuck was surprised. He had been sure Trevor would refuse. But he must have seen something in Kirk's eyes. Wanting a look for himself, Chuck almost forgot and spoke to Kirk. But Kirk turned his smile on Chuck as if to catch him at it. Chuck was so startled that he wasn't able to read anything in Kirk's eyes. Never had he been so outmaneuvered at this poker-face game. He must be more alert, but keeping up with Kirk was turning out to be impossible. And who knew what was coming next.

"Okay, on your feet. We need a little more room." Kirk moved them away from the cots, but maneuvered Trevor up against the wall, without seeming obvious about it.

"Now here's what we're going to do. In a few minutes, I'm going to trigger your anger response - purposely make you furious with me. I want you to shed all those years of holding it in. Pretend you're four years old again. I want you to express that anger by hitting me."

At this, Trevor took an involuntary step backward and ran into the wall. Staring at Kirk in shocked horror, he slowly shook his head, not in refusal, but in denial.

"Mind you, I'm not suggesting this as a normally acceptable way of dealing with anger. But this is a special case, a safe environment where it's okay to let it loose."

Trevor had found his tongue. "Why?! And - and how?"

"Because we need to go through the anger to get at what lies beyond it. Until that too is opened to the light, it cannot be healed. Once you have allowed yourself to express that anger, I think the other feelings will surface of their own accord. Let them. Do not be afraid of the pain. I will be here to walk through it with you.

"As to how, we need to practice. Close your eyes. Now imagine yourself hitting me. Keeping your eyes closed, move your arm in slow motion exactly the way you would if you were really hitting me. Yes, that's what I mean. Keep your eyes closed. Do it again, only faster this time. Good; do it again, even faster. Once more, faster. Now before you open your eyes, think about what you just did. At any time, was there any pressure or tension from my pulling on your wrist?"

"No there wasn't." Trevor opened his eyes. "How did you do that?"

Kirk smiled. "Practice. Do you have any questions about what I want you to do?"

"I don't think so. I'm not sure I can do it, though. You want me to purposely get mad and hit you, hoping that will uncover the feelings I can't remember."

"Yes, with one very important difference. I don't want you trying to make this happen. I want you to let it happen. I don't want a controlled response from you. I'm looking for an out-of-control response."

"You want me to go berserk and beat you up?! That's crazy!"

"Yes, you got it. And in the middle of all that, I'm going to ask you to open the door to those locked up feelings."

"Can't we skip the violence?"

"No, I don't think so. Don't be concerned about hurting me. The Lord will protect me from a broken jaw, because I need to be able to talk. Anything else is fair game. Now I must ask you again: Are you willing to let me take you where you do not want to go in order to get free of the anger?"

"Why are _you_ willing to do this? I get the impression you're not going to fight back, or even protect yourself."

"I'll be too busy. Besides, it's unnecessary, and might even be counterproductive. As to why I'm doing this, the Lord loves you and He wants you to be free. I am the instrument of His love to you in this situation, and I count it a privilege to serve him. Will you let me help you?"

There was dead silence for several seconds. Chuck got the impression that neither Trevor nor Kirk remembered his presence. On second thought, Kirk was undoubtedly very aware of him, although he appeared not to be. Yes, unless he was much mistaken, that was a hand motion that meant, 'Prepare for action.'


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

At Trevor's whispered "Yes," Kirk's face was instantly transformed from earnest entreaty to snarling aggression. Spouting a colorful variety of verbal abuse, Kirk stepped in close, bringing his face within inches of Trevor's. Trying to back up, Trevor ran into the wall. Fists clenched, jaw rigid, eyes showing his fury, Trevor still would not, could not let loose.

Kirk doubled his attack. Changing his tone to dripping contempt, he continued his verbal barrage. To this he added poking and prodding. First the ribs, then the belly, finally the face. As he brought the verbal abuse to a climax by calling Trevor a pipsqueak, Kirk slapped him on the cheek. When even this did not produce the desired effect, Kirk was about ready to accept defeat.

Suddenly he was given the key he had asked the Lord for. "In fact, you're just like-" It was just as well that he had no chance to finish the sentence, because he didn't know how it ended. But he knew it was the key, because Trevor screamed and let loose his fury.

To Kirk's surprise, it only required a portion of his attention to follow Trevor's movements sufficiently to avoid hampering his right arm. That left him with entirely too much freedom to worry about his own skin. He found it necessary to viciously suppress his own fighter's instincts, to refuse to block or avoid the blows coming at him. Only one took him completely by surprise, almost unbalancing him. So when Trevor did it again a few moments later, Kirk grabbed their arms and fell backwards, taking them with him.

He was sure Chuck knew he had gone down on purpose. He doubted that Trevor was that aware. He had himself firmly under control again however, so he began looking for an opening. Trevor landed astride Kirk's chest, encircled Kirk's neck with his hands, and began beating his head against the floor. Sensing Chuck's alarm, Kirk tightened his grip on the man's arm, hoping he would get the message and stay out of it. Then he prayed that the Lord would keep him conscious long enough to reach Trevor, and he started talking.

"What's ... behind ... the anger? ... Look ... beyond it, ... Trevor. ... Show me ... the rest of it. ... Just ... like ... what? ... Trevor, ... just ... like ... what?" Kirk's voice was quiet, all trace of aggression or contempt gone.

Releasing Kirk's head, Trevor began sobbing; he rolled off Kirk and curled up in a ball. Kirk sat up, placed his hand on Trevor's back, and prayed for healing.

Chuck stared at Kirk in absolute amazement. A moment ago, the evidence of numerous smashing blows to the face was obvious. Now there wasn't a mark on him. And Chuck was certain that Kirk's attention was so focused on Trevor that he wasn't even aware of the condition of his face, healed or otherwise.

As Kirk continued to pray, Trevor's sobs grew quieter. Finally Kirk repeated his question: "Just like what?"

"Not what, who - just like Kelly. She was my sister, my twin. We were four years old when she died." And he resumed sobbing.

When he had quieted again, Kirk asked another question. "What happened?"

"They called it an accident, and it was, but it was my fault. I shouldn't have dared her." And again he collapsed into sobs.

The story came out in fragments, and Kirk had to repeatedly speak peace into Trevor's soul. He and Kelly had been very close, but fierce rivals. Kelly was afraid of nothing, and that threatened him. Furthermore, his father approved of Kelly, and looked down on his more cautious nature.

One day Trevor was particularly annoyed with Kelly, so he dared her to climb twenty feet up their backyard tree. She did, of course, and fell. She died instantly, her neck broken. Trevor was devastated and his father was heart-broken. Trevor knew he could never replace Kelly in his father's heart, but he felt compelled to try. He began being purposely reckless and foolhardy. After about two months, his dad yelled at him, accusing him of being just like Kelly. That was when he hit his father. Neither of them spoke of Kelly again, and Trevor reverted to his normal cautious behavior.

Now that he knew what the problem was, Kirk wasn't sure what to do with it, so he asked the Lord for wisdom.

"Trevor, thank you for showing me your pain."

"I've never done that before. It frightens me."

"What about it frightens you?"

"Your face. I ruined your face, and I couldn't stop myself."

"Don't worry about it. It's been done before. You did exactly what I wanted you to, and it worked. I'm grateful."

"Grateful! How could you be?"

"If it hadn't worked, I'd still have a ruined face, and nothing to show for it."

"You just stood there, and I hit you again and again and again. I couldn't stop."

Suddenly, Kirk was given the key. "Trevor, I want you to sit up and look at the results of what you've done."

As Kirk spoke, Chuck saw his face transformed back into the bloody and bruised mess it had been.

"No, I can't."

"Yes, you can. You must. I insist. Do you want to be free of the anger? This is the next step you must take. There's something very important that you need to understand, and it starts with looking at my face."

Slowly, Trevor sat up and looked. Kirk gripped his forearms encouragingly. Trevor's already pale face turned a shade paler, and Kirk could feel him shaking.

"Look carefully and thoroughly. Now I want you to imagine what this face feels like. No, don't close your eyes. Keep looking at me. I'm going to ask you some questions. You can just nod or shake your head. Do you think I knew what this would feel like when I asked you to do it?"

No.

"Do you think I knew it would hurt?"

Yes.

"Do you think I felt it when I was standing there letting you hit me?"

Yes.

"Do you think I could have stopped it any time I chose?"

Pause. Yes.

"Do you think I regret any of it?"

No response.

"Not for one second do I regret it. Not then; not now. And why? Because I was willing - am willing - to pay the price for what I wanted. I want you to be free, and I needed that information.

"What do you understand about the concept of forgiveness?"

"It's saying you're sorry."

"Yes, but true forgiveness is a lot more than accepting an apology. It's releasing the other person from responsibility for the wrong they have done you. It's paying the pain price yourself, whether it's physical pain, emotional, financial, or whatever. It's refusing to let that pain interfere with a positive relationship with that person.

"Trevor, the eyes are the window of the soul. I want you to look deeply into my eyes. What do you see of my soul? Is there any blame, criticism, or judgment?"

"No, but I see pain."

"What else do you see?"

"A warmth, a reaching out, compassion, I guess, but that's an inadequate word for it. Also, there's a rock-solid foundation of something - peace, maybe."

"Given that that's what's in my soul, can you believe me when I say, Trevor, I forgive you for what you have done to my face?"

Speechless, Trevor simply nodded his head, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Kirk talked with him another two hours, dealing with his anger and bitterness towards his dad, as well as his guilt about Kelly's death. In all of it, forgiveness was the key. Kirk returned repeatedly to the example of his face.

Chuck continued to observe in silence. Courage was legendary with this man, and his ability to impart it to those around him was part of what made him an exceptional starship captain. But his wisdom, his compassion, his ability to vividly describe an event he hadn't even seen - these things astonished Chuck. And he kept watching Kirk's face, wondering if he had imagined that healing. It seemed to Chuck that the condition of Kirk's face was getting worse, not better. It was a wonder he could see at all, his face was so swollen. Suddenly Chuck realized that Kirk could not, in fact, see. He was arranging hand squeeze signals with Trevor signifying 'yes' or 'no'. But there was nothing about his body language that gave the slightest clue to his blindness. He was still intently focused on Trevor, and requiring that same focus from Trevor. And he was getting it too, without the benefit of eye contact.

At the end of their conversation, Kirk made, what seemed to Chuck, an odd request. "Trevor, you've been looking at my face now for a couple of hours. I'm sure it looks worse now than it did before. Do you think you will be able to remember what this looks like?"

"I don't expect to ever be able to forget this sight."

"That's good. I want you to remember it for the rest of your life. But remember it with joy, not pain. This is the day you were set free! Trevor, there is absolutely no pain in my heart toward you, only joy. Can you remember this sight with joy?"

When Trevor responded with a heart-felt 'yes', Kirk knew his work was finished.

"That's wonderful! I'm so glad. I count it a privilege to have had this time with you. If you have no other questions, I'd like to talk with your colleague for a while."

"I'd be pleased if you can get him to talk to you."

Kirk turned his attention to Chuck, who was somewhat disconcerted to be the object of Kirk's scrutiny. He knew the feeling was ridiculous, because Kirk couldn't see him, but he nonetheless felt as if Kirk could see right through him. There was a smile in his voice that didn't quite make it to his face.

"Well, Chuck, I imagine you have a question or two that I'd be glad to answer. Unless you want to wait until Trevor leaves."

"No way," objected Trevor. "I want to know why you put on the silent, poker-face."

"I'm sorry it distressed you, Trevor. I'm also sorry it did not distress the Captain."

"Please call me Jim. And I wasn't bothered partly because I'm used to it. My first officer wears a poker-face all the time. Also I had a pretty good idea why you were doing it."

Once more, Chuck was surprised, but he tried to keep his voice neutral. "And that is?"

"First of all, it's a tactic you use regularly to rattle your opponent. You hoped to provoke me into saying or doing something that would reveal to you something I did not wish you to know. The problem with that is that I cannot think of anything you might want to know that I would be unwilling to tell you.

"Your second purpose was more complex. You wished to observe me in action, but you wished to remain an observer, rather than become a participant. Also, you wished me to focus my entire attention on Trevor's problem, which I was quite willing to do. But the reason you wanted to observe is that you want to know what has turned your department upside down, and I'm not sure that question has been answered. As I told you, what I did with Trevor was very different from what happened when your security officers were in here."

Annoyed that Kirk was reading him like a book, Chuck let an edge of anger creep into his voice. "And what did you do to my officers?"

Not surprisingly, Kirk ignored the emotion and simply answered the question. "None of them were comfortable with being chained up. The worst ones were violently angry. So the first thing I did was to make a game out of it. If they could see it as a game, it lost its power to make them angry. I was grateful neither you nor Trevor seemed to need this, because we didn't really have time.

"The second thing I did was to refuse to get angry, no matter what they did to me. It would not surprise me to find that they were under orders to make my life as miserable as possible. Not orders from you - you don't strike me as the type to permit that - but your commanding officer is a very different type. Anyway, for three days, I ate very little and slept less. When these and other tactics did not produce the result they expected, eventually one or both of them would begin asking questions. That was my opening to share Jesus. It's their encounter with Jesus that has turned your department upside down, not me. I'm just the vessel. He's the living water."

That was definitely weird, but Chuck pressed on to his biggest issue. "Speaking of Jesus, does He do miracles? I mean, like physical healing?"

"Yes. Do you need physical healing?"

"No. I wondered why you don't ask Him to heal your face." Feeling uncomfortable with the concept of miracles, Chuck tried to sidestep the whole issue of the healing he had observed.

"There's more behind your question than simple curiosity. Can you tell me what really bothers you?"

Chuck would have liked to get up and walk away. And he had the uncanny feeling Kirk knew exactly how he felt and was amused at the handcuffs that chained them together. "How can you be so perceptive when you can't even see?"

"I can hear it in your voice. Just like now, I can tell you are annoyed, embarrassed, and frustrated that you cannot hide from me. But why should you wish to? Surely I am not a threat to you. You have nothing to fear from me."

Chuck repeatedly flexed the fingers of his free hand, desperately wanting to control the conversation. Taking a deep breath, he rubbed a hand over his face and stared at Kirk. "All right then, I'll tell you and you can tell me I'm crazy. But I'm not given to imagining things, and I know what I saw. I just can't prove it, so if you tell anybody I said this, I'll deny it."

Kirk did not reply, so he went on. "It was right after Trevor beat you up. You took us all to the floor, and Trevor started banging your head. I thought he was strangling you besides, but apparently he wasn't, because you could talk. I couldn't believe you didn't want any help, but as long as you could grip my arm like that, you were still conscious, so I waited and watched.

"The point is, my attention was focused on you, not on Trevor. I was very carefully watching your face. When Trevor rolled off of you, you immediately sat up. Your attention was so focused on him, that I got the distinct impression you had no awareness of the condition of your head or face. Your face was a bruised and bloody mess. You should have had such a king-sized headache as to be unable to sit up.

"Now here is what I saw. After you sat up - not before, _after_ - your face was suddenly transformed; no more bloody mess. It was as if the beating had never taken place. But you seemed equally unaware of this change. Your face remained in this condition until you asked Trevor to sit up and look at it. Then just as suddenly, it returned to the bruised and bloody mess. So even though you were unaware of it, for a short time, your face was healed. Call me crazy, but that's what I saw." Having delivered his confession, Chuck sat back and folded his arms.

"Chuck, you're not crazy. And you're right, I was unaware of it until just before I asked Him to change it back."

"You knew it was healed, and you asked Him to unheal it?" Chuck was almost shouting, this was so unbelievable.

"Yes, but I asked Him to keep the eyes open long enough for Trevor to see what I wanted him to see. And you'll notice I still have no difficulty talking. So yes, my face is a mess, but it's a controlled mess." Kirk chuckled in amusement.

Chuck was _not_ amused. "There's a reason your face is still a mess?"

"Yes. Why do you think the Lord healed my face, when He knew we were going to need it unhealed in a few minutes? Do you think He was just trying to make my job more difficult, insisting I choose twice to endure this? No, it was not a difficult choice, even twice, and He knew it. So if it was not for my benefit, it must have been for yours. It certainly wasn't for Trevor's. He was completely unaware of it." Kirk paused before asking, "Chuck, how much do you trust me?"

The question brought on major wariness. "That sounds like the prelude to something I don't want to do," he admitted.

Kirk laughed. "It is, I confess. All right, I'll forego that issue. You'll just have to decide if you trust me enough. Chuck, you say you know what you saw, but I think you doubt the evidence of your eyes. I want to add the evidence of touch to remove the doubt in your mind."

"You want me to touch your face after it's healed?" Chuck didn't think that sounded awful.

"Before and after. I want you to examine my face so thoroughly that when it is healed, there will not be any shadow of doubt in your mind about the reality of that healing." Kirk could feel Chuck shrinking away from him. "Don't go away. Hear me out. You don't have to do this just because I want you to.

"This is what you were hoping to avoid by just observing. But there's only so much you can learn about the water by watching someone else swim. Eventually you have to jump in yourself or remain ignorant. And I'm giving you fair warning: If you say 'yes' to this, there's worse to come. And when we get to the last, you will feel set-up, backed into a corner, and probably very angry with me. But if you do what I ask, when we are finished, you will know beyond any shadow of doubt that the power of Jesus is real. The choice is yours."

Chuck stared at Kirk's mess of a face for several long moments. What was it about this man that was so compelling? Any sane person would have nothing to do with such a proposal. Yet he was actually considering saying, 'yes'! Was it the trust factor? He didn't think so. How could you doubt the integrity of a man who told you up front that you weren't going to like any part of it? The real question was: Could he deliver the results he promised, and if so, was it worth doing all the things he wasn't going to like? Then he recalled the sudden transformation of Kirk's face that he had seen before. To be absolutely sure of this power was worth any amount of personal discomfort.

He leaned forward. "Okay, you've got me hooked. What do you want me to do?"


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"First, give me your arm." Kirk held out his right hand, palm up. Chuck placed his arm in Kirk's hand, resting his own on Kirk's arm. "Now with the other hand, touch my face."

Chuck carefully reached up and lightly touched Kirk's forehead with his fingers.

Kirk laughed. "You're much too tentative. Come on, I don't bite."

Chuck forced himself to touch Kirk's swollen eyelids and cut cheeks. But again very lightly. Suddenly, Kirk grabbed Chuck's wrist with his left hand and roughly rubbed his face with Chuck's hand, as if it were a washcloth. As suddenly releasing his hand, Kirk said, "Now you've got your feet wet."

Snorting, Chuck returned the humor, still trying to hide how out-of-control this felt. "That felt more like being thrown in head first. Why did you do that? I was trying not to hurt you."

"I know, but that's not what I want. It needs to hurt, and you need to know that it hurts. Otherwise, how will you know it needs healing? I want to feel your fingers on every square inch of my face. Press on the bruises and swellings. Put your finger into the cuts. If they've stopped bleeding, reopen them. And yes, this is going to be messy."

Chuck was appalled, but he was equally certain Kirk wouldn't let him back out.

"Now I don't think we'd get very far if I gasped, flinched, twitched, or jerked every time you touched me. So there's not going to be any of that. But you still need to know that it hurts. So I'm going to telegraph it to you through my right hand. Here, I'll show you. Put your hand on my face. Now press hard."

On autopilot, Chuck complied.

"Feel what happens to my hand when you do that? Now press hard three or four times in a row."

He was past any chance to argue.

"See what happens? That's what I mean by telegraphing the pain. Do you understand what I want you to do?"

He nodded his head, forgetting that Kirk was blind.

"Just remember why we're doing this." Kirk fell silent.

Chuck slowly began to cover the territory. True to his word, Kirk remained motionless, except for leaning forward slightly when he thought Chuck wasn't pressing hard enough. But his hand was communicating the pain he felt so well that Chuck could almost feel it himself. Kirk was relaxed and breathing calmly. Chuck was shaking, dripping sweat, and breathing much too fast. Kirk noticed it and started talking to him in that same quiet voice he had used on Trevor. He kept up a running commentary of encouragement throughout the rest of the procedure.

Chuck hated it that he needed that encouragement, and he didn't see how Kirk could manage to give it to him, in addition to everything else he was dealing with. But he knew that he would not have been able to go through with it without that quiet voice of encouragement. As it was, he faltered three or four times. And he was purposely avoiding a deep cut on Kirk's right cheek. He didn't think he could force himself to rip that cut open. Finally Kirk confronted him on it.

"What is there on my right cheek that you're afraid to touch?"

"It's a deep, deep cut. And it's not that I'm afraid to touch it."

"Is it still bleeding?"

"No. Can't we just leave it be? You're bleeding in half a dozen other places. Isn't that good enough?"

"Chuck, this is the worst disaster area on my face, isn't it?"

"Yes." Unequivocally.

"Then it's absolutely essential that this wound be opened. It won't kill me. I'm not even remotely approaching unconsciousness."

"I just don't think..." he faltered. Swallowing, he tried again. "I just can't."

"I understand. It must look pretty awful. It would be better if you could, but I'll do it for you." Kirk raised his left hand toward his face.

Chuck grabbed his wrist. "No! I won't let you!"

"This cut is going to get opened, either by you or by me." Kirk's voice was quiet, but very intense.

"But you can't!"

"Oh yes I can, and I will if you don't. You've got thirty seconds to decide."

There was no doubt in Chuck's mind that Kirk would indeed do it himself. He decided watching that would be worse than doing it himself, so he acquiesced. There was no possibility of doing it without agony, so he did it as quickly as possible. As expected, Kirk's hand went crazy, but there was no trace of it in his voice.

"Thank you, Chuck." He paused. "Now remember I told you there was worse to come. Give me both your hands." He gripped Chuck's wrists.

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Your right hand is still twitching furiously, but your left hand is as steady as a rock. How can it be?"

"Keeping the left hand steady is easy. Making the right hand twitch is what's difficult. I learned from a Vulcan friend of mine how to turn off all normal responses to pain. Possibly, if I were to give it my concentrated attention, I would be able to focus all the pain response into my hand. But I knew I would not be able to give it my undivided attention, so I asked Jesus to do it for me. He set up what amounts to a direct electrical connection between my face and my hand. I don't have to think about it at all. This way, you'll know that when my hand stops twitching, it's because there isn't any pain.

"Now, look at my face. Aside from the deep cut on my right cheek, can you identify three other major disaster areas?"

"Well, there's your smashed mouth; both eyes are swollen shut; then there's a nasty cut over your left eye; and a big bruise covers the whole left side of your face."

"Okay. Now we're going to see how flexible your fingers are. Put your right thumb on my left eye, or where it would be if it wasn't swollen shut. Now can you reach my lips with your little finger? Put your middle finger and ring finger on the big bruise. Last, can you reach the cut over my left eye with your index finger? Excellent. Now the other hand. Thumb on my other eye, little finger on my mouth. Now I want the last three fingers all in the deep cut on my cheek. You heard me, _in_ the cut."

As Chuck complied, the twitching in Kirk's hand was raised to a new level. Strangely however, it didn't seem to decrease Kirk's iron grip on his wrists. Chuck was awed by the iron will that controlled that iron grip.

"That was easier than I expected. Is the reason you're not arguing with me because you're in shock?"

"I don't think so. This is the most difficult thing I've ever done in my life, but you told me I wasn't going to like it. And I'm not angry with you." At least, he was trying hard not to be.

"You're not backed into a corner yet either. That's coming up next. With your hands firmly embedded in this mess of a face, I want you to ask Jesus to heal it."

"What?!" Chuck instinctively tried to jerk his hands away, but Kirk had anticipated him. That iron grip on his wrists would not budge. If anything, his hands were now even closer. His fingers felt like claws digging into Kirk's face. He took a deep breath to try to calm down.

"You can't be serious! Surely you can't expect that to get any results! You're the one with access to that kind of power, not me!"

"The power of Jesus is real, and it has nothing to do with me. He wants to show Himself to you today. He doesn't need my faith or my prayers. His business today is with you. So I'm not going to ask Him to heal this face. If it gets healed, it will be because you asked Him."

"But I don't even believe in Jesus. All that religious stuff is for cowards and weaklings." The words were out before he could think enough to not say them.

But Kirk wasn't offended. "Am I a coward? Or a weakling?"

"No, you aren't. I don't understand you." Chuck didn't understand anything about this encounter, but Kirk didn't object to making it personal.

"That's because you have an erroneous view of who Jesus is. But you don't have to understand Him in order to ask Him to heal me. You just have to believe He can do it. And believing is a decision you make."

"Believing is a decision? I don't agree with that. You just believe or don't believe. It's not something you can decide about."

"Let me ask you a question: Why did you decide to open this cut yourself, rather than let me do it?" Kirk was still calmly sitting there, in perfect control of himself and the conversation.

"Because watching you would have been worse."

"How do you know I really would have done it?" His voice held a hint of mockery.

"No way! Don't tell me you were bluffing!"

"I wasn't, but you could not know that for certain. You believed that I would do it."

Chuck nodded decisively. "Yes. There was absolutely no doubt in my mind."

"What was your belief based on?"

"I don't know. Your tone of voice, I guess. And the evidence of your character that I had already seen."

"Exactly. Most of our beliefs are not based on conscious thought. But the brain is constantly processing data, and everything you believe, down to the assumption that there's air in this room, is based on a collection of data. That data is processed and a decision arrived at, usually without your having to think about it. This decision requires conscious thought because it contradicts beliefs you have held in the past.

"Well, I didn't mean to get philosophical. Your fingers must be getting tired. So are you going to decide to believe?"

"What happens if I don't?" Chuck was mentally backpedaling.

"You'll have to get the doctor in here to patch me up; sometime tomorrow, I should be able to see again; and in a week or two, all the evidence will have disappeared. There's only one problem with that. How are you going to explain it without getting Trevor in trouble? The only way to save Trevor's career is to remove the evidence so there's nothing to report."

Suddenly Chuck understood the reference to being backed into a corner. And he _was_ angry. Kirk sensed it immediately.

"It's cozy in the corner, isn't it?" His tone was mocking, then abruptly sober. "I want you to know that if your decision is 'no', I will hold myself responsible for ruining Trevor's career. But I will not change my decision about getting this face healed."

Chuck was furious. "You've been playing me for a fool for the last four hours!"

"No. I admit to teasing you occasionally, but you knew what I was doing. And I didn't set this up until after you told me about seeing my face healed."

"What's with the fingers in your face then? Why didn't you just tell me up front: 'Do this or Trevor's going to get the ax'?"

"I would have preferred to leave Trevor out of it. And I told you why I wanted your fingers in my face. You've seen my face healed once. Now you need to feel it. Do you doubt that He can heal even with your fingers in the middle of it? Are you afraid for the condition of your fingers?"

"No!" He swallowed. "I mean, yes." He shook his head. "I really don't know."

"Lord, speak peace into Chuck's soul right now. Take away the confusion. Give clarity to his thinking, so that he can see the decision before him."

Immediately Chuck was flooded with a great calm. His anger and confusion disappeared like a mist. Out of the fog came an awareness that this was a crossroads decision in his life. Either path he chose, life would never be the same again. How was he to know what was right? Kirk's words came back to him, 'How much do you trust me?' Was it really a question of trust, and if so, did he trust Kirk? Essentially, believe in him enough that he could believe in his God?

As he sat there considering the question, his eyes focused on the deep cut his fingers were embedded in. Then he looked at his thumbs, planted where Kirk's eyes should be. Those two things alone must be causing excruciating pain, never mind the rest of his face. Chuck's gaze traveled down to Kirk's hands, still firmly gripping his wrists. The right one was now shaking constantly, as well as twitching uncontrollably. The left was still rock-steady.

What kind of man would engineer this situation on purpose, knowing it meant physical agony, on the off-chance that he, Chuck, would say 'yes'? One who was very sure of himself, not the least bit afraid of pain, and very strong-willed. What kind of a God would such a man serve? A very strong God. But it was more than that. Chuck had not seen Kirk do anything that was for his own benefit. Everything he did or said was to help the person he was with. Suddenly, Chuck realized his decision was made.

"Okay, I want what you've got. What do I have to do?"

Kirk's first response was to grip Chuck's wrists tighter and press his face in even closer. This, of course, increased the level of pain, but Chuck got the distinct impression that Kirk didn't care.

"Do you believe Jesus can heal this face?"

Chuck squared his shoulders. "I choose to believe it, yes."

"Then ask Him to do it."

"Jesus, God of Jim Kirk, I ask You to heal his face."

Chuck felt a warm tingling in the tips of his fingers. Suddenly he was staring into Kirk's eyes, his thumbs resting so close under each eye that he could feel Kirk's eyelashes. The next thing Chuck was aware of was that Kirk's right hand had stopped shaking and twitching. His attention was caught however, by the depth of expression in Kirk's eyes. There was a fierce joy, a great compassion, and a deep peace. The moment dissolved when Kirk broke into a broad grin.

"Go ahead. Touch all of it. Can you find any scars? Anything at all that hurts when you touch it?" Kirk released Chuck's wrists, retaining contact with his left arm. A thorough examination produced not the slightest twitch in Kirk's right hand. Cuts and bruises had all disappeared without a trace; even the deep one had no scar or even new skin to mark where it had been.

"Now. One last thing. I want to verify that the connection to my right hand is still working. So I want you to do something that will hurt my face. Preferably something that won't show afterwards." Kirk grinned in amusement.

Chuck was beyond the point of raising any argument, so he just did as ordered. He pinched Kirk's left cheek, briefly but vigorously. The resulting twitch in Kirk's right hand was quite obvious. "Satisfied?"

"Yes, I am." Kirk sat back against the wall. "Any questions?"

"How did you acquire the power of Jesus? And how do I get what you have?"

"The story of how I became a servant of Jesus takes several hours to tell, which is more time than we have right now. If I am unavailable, you can get the complete story from Spock. In fact, I recommend you talk to each of my officers. They all have a story to tell, and it would give you a broader perspective. As to how you get what I have, you've taken the first step already. You heard what I said to Trevor about Who Jesus is and what He's done. Talk to any of your security team whose lives have been changed. Above all, talk to Jesus Himself."

Chuck wasn't at all sure he was ready for that, but they were out of time to discuss it further. "Okay. Meanwhile, what do I do with you?"

Kirk cocked his head in puzzlement. "I don't understand the question."

"It's my professional opinion that these handcuffs are completely unnecessary. However, Commander Graber thinks otherwise."

"I understand that. So what's the problem?"

"I have ten officers that haven't been in here. But I have a list of volunteers from other departments that's got over fifty names on it. I also have two officers in Sickbay that can't talk. And your attorney undoubtedly wishes to see you this morning."

"We should be able to take care of Doug and Bill in about three hours, so tell Sam he can see me at 0900. Ten officers is five shifts; that's a day and a half, maybe two days if you take out meetings with Sam. I'll see if he can get this trial going in another day or two. As for your list of volunteers, I know where you can get six people who have nothing better to do right now, and are probably very tired of doing nothing. I guarantee if you explain the situation, they'll be more than happy to help. All you need is twelve more sets of handcuffs."

Chuck's mouth gaped. "After what you've been through, you'd wish this on your people?"

Kirk grinned. "It beats boredom any day."

"You realize, once I start this, I can't give them time off for sleeping, eating, or showering."

"Spock's the only one that could go non-stop for days on end, but forty-eight hours, they could all do."

Chuck gave him a hard stare to be sure he was really serious. "Okay, but I'm going to tell them it was your idea."

Kirk just smiled. "That's fine. I'm only sorry I didn't manage to put them to work sooner."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

They sent for Doug and Bill, said goodbye to Trevor, and arranged for another meal. Bill arrived with an escort who told them that Doug was still under sedation. Kirk prayed for Doug to awaken, calm and alert. Chuck sent the escort to try again to get Doug. Bill backed into the corner and swallowed nervously.

Kirk tried to put him at ease. "Bill, I know you can't talk right now. There's nothing to be afraid of. When Doug gets here, Chuck will leave, and we can talk, just the three of us. If that's okay with you, please nod your head."

Bill vigorously shook his head 'no'.

Kirk looked at Chuck, who was clearly puzzled. Kirk tried again.

"Spock told Chuck that you needed to talk to me alone. Is that true?"

Yes.

"You want to talk without Doug here either?"

Yes.

"Does it make any difference whether I talk to you or Doug first?"

A pause, then yes.

"You want to talk to me first?"

A pause, then yes, and no.

"You want Doug to talk to me first?"

No and yes.

"Lord Jesus, help me figure this out." Pause. "Are you afraid of Doug?"

Yes.

Kirk turned to Chuck. "I think I need to talk to them individually. Doug first. Bill is afraid to talk because he's afraid of what Doug will do to him if he tells what happened. Also, he doesn't want to be in here with Doug, again, because he's afraid of what Doug will do. So what can we do to make it safe for Doug to talk to me alone."

"I have no idea how to protect you from Doug."

"You misunderstand me. I'm not afraid of Doug. You need to protect Doug from me. I'm the dangerous criminal, remember? Can you scrounge us up some rope? Cuff my hands behind my back, tie my ankles together with rope, and maybe secure the whole thing to the bulkhead. That ought to do it."

Bill exhibited increased alarm. Grabbing Kirk's arm, he furiously shook his head.

"Calm down, Bill. I know what you're afraid of. But remember this: Doug can't do anything the Lord doesn't allow. Do you think it matters to the Lord whether I'm asleep or tied hand and foot?"

Bill slowly shook his head. At this point, Doug arrived. Chuck reluctantly sent for some rope. Kirk presented his back and hands to Chuck and said quietly, "Chuck, you have to." After Chuck secured his hands, Kirk went over to speak with Doug while they waited for the rope.

"Doug, I'm glad you're here. We need to have a talk, just the two of us. There's no need to fear. Just wait a few minutes. We're making some preparations, so that it will be safe for Chuck to leave us by ourselves."

At this point, Randy arrived with the rope.

"Hello, Randy, it's good to see you. I've been hearing good reports about you."

Randy hung his head. "I need to apologize for my behavior in here."

"Apology accepted. It's already forgotten. I see you brought us some rope. I would guess you're pretty good with it." Kirk walked over to the wall. "I want you to completely immobilize my ability to attack or escape, but I want to be able to maintain eye contact, so I don't want to be face down on the floor. Can you do it?"

Randy looked to Chuck for confirmation. Chuck merely nodded. So Randy turned back to Kirk. "For how long?"

"About three hours."

"Yes, I can immobilize you. And after about three hours, you'll be sore, but able to walk. You want to be standing?"

"Sitting, if you can."

"That's worse. You'll be very sore."

"Doesn't matter. Sitting is better for other reasons."

"Okay. Chuck, can we take these cuffs off? I'll want them placed differently."

Randy worked steadily for ten minutes. When he was finished, Kirk could not move so much as an inch in any direction, except for his head, which could move freely.

"I'm impressed, Randy. You're good. Thank you very much."

"You won't thank me when you get out of here. But at least I warned you."

Chuck came over to inspect. "Jim, are you sure you want to do this? I have no idea how badly Doug is traumatized, or what he might do in this situation."

"Don't worry, Chuck. I don't know what he's going to do either, but I know Who does. If you can clear the room now, this should take about an hour. Doug will pound on the door when we're finished."

Chuck and the others departed. Kirk called Doug over, who came slowly and reluctantly. When he had seated himself nearby, Kirk began talking in that quiet voice.

"Doug, I can tell that you are afraid. Can you tell me what it is that you fear?"

Doug merely shook his head.

"Are you afraid of me?"

Yes.

"Is that because of something that happened the other night?"

Yes.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

No.

"Is your inability to speak related to what happened in here?"

Yes.

"Were your hands injured in here?"

Yes.

"Are you afraid to tell me what happened?"

Yes.

"Is it because of something you did?"

A slow nod.

"Doug, confession of wrongdoing is one of the most difficult things to face. My already shaky self-image can't handle admission of failure. I can't afford to let you see who I really am, because that would give you a power over me that's much too risky. You might shatter me. And then there's consequences. Admission of guilt requires taking responsibility for consequences, none of which I'm going to like. Does any of this reflect your thinking?"

Yes.

"Are you more concerned about what I think of you, or about the consequences?"

No response.

"Sorry. That wasn't a yes/no question. Is it the consequences?"

Yes.

"Is what I think of you an issue at all?"

A vigorous denial.

That was much too quick to be believed, but Kirk didn't press it. "Speaking of consequences, would you like to be able to speak?"

Yes.

"I wonder why you can't. Is it because you don't want to tell me what happened?"

No response.

"Do you know of any other reason?"

No response.

"Is the consequence of being unable to speak worse than the possible consequences of telling me what happened?"

No response.

"Do you want me to ask the Lord to restore your voice?"

No response.

"Lord, I'm not getting anywhere. What do you want me to do?" Long pause. "Doug, the Lord has just told me that if you walk out of here today without having told me what happened, then you will never speak again as long as you live. If you choose to tell me, then the Lord will restore your voice. It's your choice.

"If it will help you to decide, I can tell you that, by a process of logical reasoning, I already know that you tried to kill me." Doug's head shot up in alarm. "It's the only conclusion that explains your injury. I have not told Chuck, or he would not have permitted this meeting. You might wonder why I wanted this, knowing what I do. It's because I care about you and I want to help. And Doug, I am not afraid of you. Please, for your sake, tell me what happened."

Doug broke down and began sobbing. Kirk just let him cry for several minutes. Then he prayed for him.

"Lord Jesus, I ask You to restore Doug's voice, so he can talk to me about this."

"I didn't mean to, really I didn't! I just couldn't believe you wouldn't fight it. Oh! I'm talking! My voice is back! I can speak!"

"Yes. Calm down, take a deep breath, start at the beginning, and tell me everything."

And Doug did, in considerable detail. No longer trying to hide, he wanted Kirk to know exactly what he had done to him. When he had finished the narrative, Doug returned to his puzzlement over Kirk's lack of reaction. Kirk explained.

"It's true that a human will fight for air even when unconscious, so what you witnessed was not normal. But then, none of it was normal. I had put myself in the Lord's hands. His control over my body was so complete that He was able to make it respond in ways not normal for humans.

"I would like you to consider for a moment why the Lord did what He did. He obviously had no intention of letting you kill me. Why did He let you come so close?"

"I don't know, and why aren't you upset about it?" Briefly, the aggressiveness threatened to reappear.

Kirk ignored it and pressed on. "We'll come back to that in a moment. I think the Lord's purpose was to show you what was in your heart, so that you could turn from it. You were so driven to prove Him powerless, that you were willing to kill me. And you made that choice four times. Are you now willing to acknowledge the power of God?"

Doug stared at him for a long moment. "Yes."

A wide smile appeared on Kirk's face. "I'm so glad. As to why I'm not upset, did you expect me to be angry with you, or with the Lord?"

"Well, both, I guess."

"I'm not angry with the Lord because I trust Him completely. He doesn't make mistakes. He knows exactly how long I can survive without oxygen. At no point was the situation out of His control. In addition, I am His servant, and He has my permission to do whatever He thinks best in any situation. When He needs my cooperation, He tells me what He's doing; other times, He just does it.

"As to why I'm not angry with you, I understood before I went to sleep what your probable reaction would be, and I am not surprised that you took it to the extremes you did. I purposed in my heart to forgive whatever you did, and I _have_ forgiven you. That is why I am not angry."

Kirk went on to explain the concept of forgiveness, and Doug was able to see that he needed forgiveness, not only from Kirk, but from the Lord. Because of the example of Kirk's love, Doug was able to accept God's love as well, to receive Him as Lord and Savior, and to experience freedom from bondage to sin.

By the time they were finished, almost two hours had elapsed. Kirk had lost all feeling in his hands and lower legs. The rest of his muscles were screaming in protest, especially his back. But it was worth it to see Doug free. And Kirk wasn't ready to throw in the towel yet. He wanted to see Bill free too. So he sent Doug to fetch Bill.

Chuck came too. "Are you all right? That took twice as long as you said it would."

"I'm fine. I'm sorry I underestimated the time. Tell Sam I'm tied up right now, and I'll get to him as soon as I can."

"Not funny." But Chuck knew that as long as Kirk was telling jokes, he was in control of the situation. So he retreated, leaving Doug and Bill with Kirk.

"Bill, as you've heard, Doug's voice is restored. He has something to say to you."

"I want you to know, Bill, that it's okay to tell him everything, and I'm sorry I threatened you. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Bill nodded yes, somewhat slowly.

"Doug, before you go, there's one other thing. Chuck is waiting for a report from you on what happened the other night. What are you going to tell him?"

Doug took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "The truth."

"I'm praying for you." Doug departed. Bill sat down in front of Kirk. "Are you still afraid to talk to me?" No. "Do you want me to ask the Lord to restore your voice?" Yes. "Lord, please restore Bill's voice, so that he can talk with me freely."

"Did he really tell you everything? And what did you do to him? He seems like a different person."

"He is a different person - he's free of all the drivenness, and I didn't do it; the Lord did. And yes, he told me in great detail what happened the other night. But just in case he missed something, I'd like to hear it from you too. Sometimes people see the same event from different perspectives."

So Bill recounted the sequence of events also, and his story was substantially the same as Doug's. As he talked, it became apparent to Kirk that Bill needed to forgive Doug for getting him mixed up in this mess. But also, he was even more self-centered than Doug had been. It was only with a series of God-directed questions, that Kirk was able to get at the core issues in Bill's heart. Consequently he ended up spending three hours with Bill.

During the last half of his talk with Bill, Chuck was fit to be tied. Having heard Doug's report, Chuck confined him to quarters. Posting Randy at Kirk's cell door, he went to advise Kirk's attorney of the delay.

Sam was not happy. "He's unavailable? Not sleeping, but unavailable!? Just what is he unavailable doing?"

"His exact message for you was -"

"I heard what you said the first time, but 'tied up' doing what?"

Chuck nervously clearly his throat. "It's a little difficult to explain, sir."

"I'm listening." Sam was not giving an inch.

"Perhaps if we could step into your conference room, rather than discuss this in the corridor."

"If you insist." They entered the room. Sam was in no mood for a run-around, so he didn't even sit down.

Chuck was not used to feeling intimidated, but explaining Kirk's behavior was beyond him. "Well sir, I don't know how much you know about the situation. Kirk is about as atypical a prisoner as I have ever seen. He's very sure of himself. He quietly takes command of a situation where he's at a complete disadvantage. And those guarding him think it perfectly natural for him to do so. But what's incredible is that he never thinks about himself. As far as I can tell, his entire focus is on helping those around him. In his thinking, you and that trial are of secondary importance."

Realizing he was rambling, Chuck blurted out the essential facts. "Right now, he's sitting on the floor of his cell, tied hand and foot, completely immobilized, counseling one of my officers, who, as a result of an incident that occurred yesterday, cannot speak."

No explosion materialized, just a quiet inquiry. "Why is he tied?"

"Did he tell you about the conditions of his detainment?"

"No, only that he didn't want me to complain about it. I could tell he was exhausted, so I told him he better get some sleep, or I would complain."

"That explains what happened later that night, and Spock was right, it wasn't Kirk's idea to sleep. Anyway, Commander Graber ordered that he be handcuffed between two guards at all times. So when he wanted to talk to these guys alone, he told me to tie him up. Mind you, he's protecting my career. He knew I thought it was not only unnecessary, but unwise. This has been going on for four hours now, so if you'll excuse me, I should check on the situation."

"If you don't mind, I'll come with you."

An hour later when Bill emerged from Kirk's cell, Randy and Sam rushed in. Chuck delayed long enough to speak briefly with Bill.

Randy swiftly but carefully untied Kirk, who immediately lay flat on his back.

"Thanks, Randy. You do very good work. There's a couple more things you could do for me, though."

"What's that, sir?"

"Please, in here, it's just Jim. I'd like you to rub my hands and feet. About five minutes on the hands, and ten minutes on the feet should be sufficient. And don't stop if I scream."

Chuck heard the last comment as he entered. "You, scream?! That'll be the day. Come on, Sam; you take one foot and I'll take the other."

Kirk didn't scream, but his jaw was clenched tight to prevent it, and his face was streaming with sweat. When he felt as if he couldn't possibly stand any more, Randy turned him over and began to give him a thorough back rub. Kirk suddenly realized he had tensed his whole body in an effort to fight the pain.

_I know better than to do that,_ he told himself. _I must be more tired than I thought._ However, when repeated attempts to relax did not bring the desired result, he asked the Lord about it.

_What am I doing wrong?_

_ Nothing. You're doing exactly what I want you to be doing._

_ Then why isn't it working?_

_ Because Chuck needs to see that you are human. Most humans could not do what you want._

_ Okay. Whatever You say._

And Kirk continued trying unsuccessfully to relax. But he was no longer frustrated that he could not do so. The pain in his feet subsided slowly. Shortly after he began to enjoy Randy's touch, he quit. Kirk turned over lazily and smiled up at Randy.

"I don't suppose a daily dose of your hands is in the schedule. You could make a lot of spending money charging guys for back rubs."

"I do."

"That felt like considerably more than ten minutes."

"It was about thirty minutes."

"Why did you keep it up, and how did you know when to quit?"

"You finally relaxed."

Kirk smiled in amusement at himself.

"What's funny?"

"Inside joke. I've been trying to relax ever since you started. The Lord wouldn't let me. If He'd told me He wanted me to stay put for half an hour til my feet were better, I probably would've argued with Him."

"If you'd relaxed suddenly and completely, I would've assumed you had spinal column damage. So thank you for not scaring me to death."

"Thank the Lord. He's the one responsible." He turned to Chuck and Sam. "Thank you, gentlemen, for a thankless job well done. And Sam, I'm sorry for keeping you waiting. If Chuck can scrounge us up an escort, we can leave now."

Chuck was annoyed. "I'm getting pretty tired of this, and I can't understand why you're not." He pulled out the handcuffs.

"Don't waste your energy on it, Chuck. It's a non-issue."

"Why can't we just talk here? Then you don't have to go anywhere," Sam offered.

"I enjoy the exercise and the change of scenery. Besides," he paused. "I would be careful what you say in this room." He looked at Chuck for a reaction, and got one.

It was subtle, but Chuck's eyes widened, and his lips tightened in suppressed anger. "Are you saying this room is bugged? And how would you know? You haven't exactly been free to investigate."

"I have felt watched ever since I got here. I might be wrong, but you may want to look into it."

"I certainly do, and right now if you don't mind. Randy, go get Jeff out of bed. He's our best electronics man. Get the desk to send me two officers who can escort the prisoner, and lock us in here while you're gone." Randy left. Chuck turned to Kirk. "I have just one question. If you knew you were being watched, why did you do the things you have done in here, especially this morning?"

"A fair question. First, I do not know for certain that we are being watched. It is merely a feeling I have. Secondly, I did not know until this morning that you were unaware of it. Your responses would have been far different if you had known there was a camera in here. Third, I personally have nothing to hide. If the person or persons watching have learned anything about me, they are more than welcome to the knowledge. Fourth, why didn't I tell those with me that we were being watched? It was a calculated risk, that whoever placed the camera would be unable to use such information gained in an illegal manner. I apologize for not informing you of my suspicions. And perhaps, there is no camera."

"Maybe." Chuck didn't seem mollified.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

A few minutes later, the escort arrived and Kirk and Sam left. When Jeff arrived and Chuck explained about the possible presence of a camera, it took him five minutes to find it, and another ten to remove it. Chuck took it straight to Graber's office.

"Sir," as he laid the camera on the commander's desk, "I must report a breach in security. Someone installed a camera in Captain Kirk's cell without my knowledge or approval. I have no idea what information may have been transmitted to parties unknown." Graber wasn't known for tolerating mistakes, and Chuck expected a reprimand at the very least.

"Relax, Chief. There's no breach in security. I had the camera installed, and the only one who's seen that information is me."

"You, sir?!" More than startled, he stiffened his already straight back and looked for a way to convey his outrage without insubordination. "But why was I not informed?"

"I did not want Kirk to know it was there. The only way to be sure of that was to ensure that no one he came in contact with knew it was there."

That was no excuse, but arguing the point would be worse than useless. Chuck looked for something of more substance than a mere complaint. "But sir, Kirk is the one who told me to look for it. Said he felt watched. And the only reason he mentioned it is because his attorney wanted to talk there instead of going to the conference room. So whatever you hoped to learn about Kirk is invalid, because he suspected the camera's existence right from the start. Although I got the distinct impression that he would not have changed his behavior even had he been certain of being watched."

Since Graber didn't interrupt him, Chuck dared to broach the second issue on his mind. "I have another concern, however, if I may speak freely." Graber nodded. "There was also a great deal of information about my people, much of it highly personal. If I may ask, sir, what do you intend to do with that knowledge?"

Graber absently ran a finger along the edge of the camera. "I don't intend to do anything with it. I would prefer that no one other than yourself know I have the information."

"I'm afraid that's not possible, sir. By the time I leave this office, the story will be all over the department. And I can't let them think it was an outsider. They would insist on an investigation."

"Very well. Then I will personally apologize to each of them, starting with you." Graber brought his attention to Chuck's face. "I am sorry you were a victim of my subterfuge, with the result that I have knowledge of you that you may not have wished me to have." His fingers stopped playing with the camera. "Will you forgive me?"

Chuck was startled. This was not at all what he expected. But the man had been watching Kirk for five days, and maybe he really meant it.

"Yes, sir, but surely you didn't learn anything about me you didn't already know."

"I learned something of the depth of your courage and compassion. And I'm proud to have you as my security chief." It was all the right words, and might be sincere.

"Thank you, sir."

"If you'll provide me with a list, I'll see your people in the next day or two."

"Sir, there's over thirty people on that list." He kept his protest mild.

"Well then, give me a week, and put a star by those you consider most urgent."

"Yes, sir." Chuck rose and turned to go. He knew better than to ask what the commander was going to do with what he had learned about Kirk. Some higher-up must want Kirk pretty badly.

"Oh, and Chuck," Graber paused to get Chuck's attention again. "Send Kirk in to see me when he's finished with his attorney." He smiled grimly. "And now would be a good time for Operation NS."

"Yes, sir." That was another subject on which he disagreed with Graber's orders.

xxxx

Sam ordered an early lunch, which Kirk did not refuse. During lunch, Kirk filled Sam in on what had been going on in his cell for the past five days. After lunch, they got down to business. Sam told Kirk what he had learned in the prosecutor's office, as well as his subsequent interviews with Kirk's crew, and his investigation aboard the _Enterprise_.

Like Spock, Kirk's immediate concern was for the safety of Eric and Carl. And he absolutely forbade Sam to use Carl as a witness.

"The only people that know what occurred in that meeting are those who were there. And that's the way it's going to stay."

"But Jim, the case is a pack of lies!" Sam threw the folder down to emphasize his disgust.

"I know that; you know that; and they know that. But telling the truth will not change the outcome of this trial."

Standing up, Sam took two steps away from the table before turning to voice his objection. "Why not? If you, Carl, Eric and Spock all testify, you're certain to be believed."

"Sam, I like you. I respect you as a person and an attorney. I do not want your career ruined because of me." Kirk stood up to get at eye level. "Please, for my sake, will you drop the case?"

"Jim, I will not abandon you! I don't care what happens to my career. I care about what happens to you!" He extended a finger and stabbed at Kirk's chest.

"You also care about the truth. You can't stand it when truth and justice do not prevail. What you need to accept is that this trial isn't about truth. They have no intention of letting justice prevail. The prosecutor told you that." Kirk turned away to marshal his thoughts. Sam needed to see this his way.

He faced Sam and went on. "You think they expect me to tell the truth. I don't think so. I think they chose this incident because they know I won't talk. They know Spock won't talk. They weren't too sure about Carl and Eric, so they tried to silence them." He began to pace, thinking out loud.

"If you muddy the waters with the truth, if you get Carl to testify, you may well ruin the careers of up to four people, but you won't change the outcome of this trial. If you make mincemeat out of their case, they'll only make up a new one. Someone very high up, or probably several people, are behind this. You'll get absolutely nowhere trying to buck this." He faced Sam and squared his shoulders.

"Sam, what's at stake here is bigger than me. It's even bigger than the _Enterprise_, though I doubt they know that. They are afraid of what's happened aboard my ship because they don't understand it. Because they fear it, they want to destroy it, or at least, keep it from spreading. If they are unable to destroy me, they will enlarge their attack to include my senior officers, and then my whole crew."

"What are you suggesting then?" His tone indicated provisional acceptance.

"In my opinion, the only way to win this is to give them exactly what they want, and then prove them wrong. They think taking my ship away will destroy me. It won't. Not that I'm thrilled about the idea, but it's not the end of the world. Some of them think I'll recant before I'll let them take away my ship. They're wrong. I hope they'll give me a chance to share my testimony, but if they're smart, they won't do that.

"I want to let them take my ship, so they can see that the power of Jesus doesn't depend on me. The Christians on the _Enterprise_ are not going to curl up and play dead just because I'm not there. Perhaps somebody will be convinced of the reality of the power of Jesus as a result."

Sam stared at him, as if not quite convinced of what he'd just heard.

Brushing the disbelief aside, Kirk got him to focus on the practical. "If you're determined to stay with the case, there are a few things you can do for me. First, go talk to Carl, and Eric too, if you can. Make sure they understand I want them to remain silent. They will feel badly about it, so tell them I said to remember that _all_ things work together for good. Secondly, the best way to ensure their safety is to tell the prosecutor that they won't talk. Third, I want you to visit each of my senior officers. Explain the situation, and tell them what I plan to do. And this is most important: Tell them I want them to stay with the _Enterprise_ and not quit. Prove the opposition wrong. I'm counting on it. The last thing you can do for me is find out how soon we can get this show on the road. Chuck is running out of security officers."

xxxx

Kirk was taken next to Graber's office, without any explanation.

"Come in, Captain. Sit down please. You may go, gentlemen. I'll call you when we're finished." The security escort departed. Kirk said nothing, nor did he reveal his surprise at this change in procedure. Graber studied him in silence for a moment.

"You continue to surprise me, Captain. Six days ago, you protested the presence of a security team. Now you make no comment on their absence. Furthermore, I know what life has been like for you these past days. Yet you are as calm and controlled as when I handed you that court-martial document. Does nothing ever surprise you?"

"Of course, sir, but I learned poker from an expert."

"I see. And I have given you no reason to view me as anything other than an opponent. Very well; I will place my cards on the table - well, at least some of them." He paused, as if hoping Kirk would grant him a smile at the attempted humor.

When none was forthcoming, he went on. "Along with the orders I showed you, I received a separate set of orders from the same source. Those orders specifically detailed the treatment you were to receive: non-regulation cell, old-style handcuffs, no privacy, no sleep, no food, violent and cruel guards. We even engineered the break you got on the second day. It was intended to be demoralizing. Also your attorney was intentionally delayed, so as to give you a full three days of this treatment. No one imagined that it would go on any longer than it took your attorney to file a complaint. Federation prisoners are not treated this way, and you know it.

"The guards were all told to harass you. Anything they did, and I mean anything, short of killing you, was okay. As long as you survived it, they were immune from any legal action. However, none of them knew that we installed a very sophisticated camera to record everything. This camera focused on you alone. Those with you were either not in the picture, or were out of focus. I was told to deliver this recording to a certain individual who would see that it got to the proper authorities. I, too, would be immune from any legal action. I was not told the purpose of all this, but was assured the safety of the Federation might well be at stake."

Kirk listened to all this explanation in not-quite-stony silence. Not very surprised by most of it, he was looking for a way into this man's heart. Past the military exterior, he sensed this man was hurting. He asked the Lord to open the door.

Graber continued. "Today the camera was discovered and removed. So there will be no more harassing, no more handcuffs. I don't know why I should expect a reaction from you about that announcement. You must have some Vulcan ancestry." Kirk smiled briefly in amusement. "Ah. I see you're not completely Vulcan then. But even Vulcans suffer from curiosity. Have you no questions?"

"How can I negotiate for the release of my officers?"

"You can't. My orders were very explicit about that. I'm sorry." He didn't sound sorry. "Well, even if you're not curious, I am. I've watched you for days, and I'm puzzled by your responses at every turn. Will you take off the poker face long enough to answer my questions?"

Was this the opening Kirk needed? "What would you like to know?"

"I want to know why you never got angry. Why, beyond that initial protest, there was not one word of complaint. Why you didn't have your attorney put a stop to it. Why men who entered your cell as antagonists came out as your friends. What drives you, that you would do the things I saw you do today? Why are you as unconcerned about this recording and what I'm going to do with it, as you are by this court-martial, which if rumor is correct, is going to ruin your career?"

"I will answer your questions on one condition: As I do so, I want you to look into my eyes and tell me honestly what you see there. The eyes are the window of the soul, and I will intentionally open that window for you to see inside. Do you agree to my condition?"

Graber was cautious, maybe expecting a trap. "Yes, but why would you do that?"

"Because you asked. You already know what I said to those in my cell. But your camera cannot record what they saw in my eyes." Suddenly Kirk's face was very readable, and Graber was startled by what he saw there.

"You care about me! Why?"

"Because Jesus loves you. What you see in me is His love flowing through me. I am His agent."

Graber stared in complete incomprehension.

"Now to answer your questions: It is human nature to be self-centered. After all, no one else is going to look out for number one, right? But when I gave my life to the Lord, I was freed from the need to be self-absorbed. Now that I belong to Him, it's the Lord's responsibility to take care of me. I don't need to be concerned about it.

"Several corollaries go with that to make my trust in Him complete. One is that He is perfectly able to take care of me. Secondly, He desires the very best for me in all of life. Mind you, His idea of the best may not look like it to you or me, but He considers all factors, not just those we are presently aware of. Third, He knows me better than I know myself.

"Freed from the tyranny of self, I am able to concentrate on what is important to the Lord. In this situation, that was the lives of the men you sent me. Even if I'd known this was some kind of endurance test, I doubt I would have behaved differently. I could have let them throw me around and toss my food on the floor more or less indefinitely, but that would not have changed their lives. They came in harassing me, but they left having had an encounter with the living God. With those results, I don't care how much harassing goes with it." Kirk sat back and spread his arms out.

"As for today's encounters, the first man was looking for help. The second, for information; but when the time was right, he had an encounter with the Lord, and I was privileged to be part of it. The other two gentlemen who'd gotten messed up the day before, I felt obligated to help if they would let me."

"But the situations you engineered made the handcuffs seem like child's play!"

"I only did what the Lord gave me to do in each situation. But He knows I am not afraid of physical pain, and I'm quite willing to use it to get the results I'm after.

"As for the recording you have, if it won't injure anyone else, I don't care who you give it to. I have nothing to hide. The court-martial is not something I've taken time to think about. I won't say I'm looking forward to it, but I'm not afraid of it either. The Lord knows exactly what He's doing, and He's not surprised by anything that happens to me.

"Now can you tell me what you have seen in my eyes while we've talked?"

Graber looked down at his desk before raising his eyes to meet Kirk's. "I've seen a great deal, maybe more than you wished. Are you sure you want me to tell you?"

Kirk smiled warmly. "Absolutely. I opened the window, remember."

"Very well. The first thing I was aware of was the honesty of your words. Deception is almost always visible in the eyes. Secondly, your sense of humor starts with an ability to laugh at yourself. Nothing you said was funny, but the twinkle in your eye gave me the impression you were laughing at an inside joke on yourself. Never did I feel as if you were laughing at me.

"Foremost in your eyes, I see an absolute trust in your Lord. On top of that has floated a wide range of emotions: anger, frustration, compassion, joy. A lot of remembered pain, but no hatred or bitterness. You're not angry with me, or even the unnamed superior who started all this."

Kirk nodded encouragement to continue, more than a little surprised at the level of honesty Graber dared to express.

"When you talked about the recording, I sensed you were remembering a similar situation in the past, and were amused by the similarity. But when you talked of the court-martial, I saw sadness in your eyes. A grieving, but still no anger or bitterness mixed with it. It's as if you already know, have known for some time, what the outcome will be. How is that possible?"

"It confirms something the Lord told me several months ago. I do not know the outcome; I merely suspect that it will not be favorable. I'm grieving the loss of friends I have known for years. But I'm grateful it's merely a separation, not loss through death."

"Why is there no bitterness?" Graber's attitude had become positively open.

"Because I trust the Lord. Let me explain it this way. Suppose you're stranded in a lifepod, out in the middle of nowhere, and down to your last tank of oxygen. Somebody comes along and says they've got oxygen, but the only way you can get it is by opening a valve. You have to decide whether to trust him or not. Trusting Jesus is similar, only most of us don't see it as a life-and-death decision.

"Let me get a little closer. Let's say this fist represents me." He put his closed hand, palm up, on Graber's desk. "I can go through life all closed in on myself. No one can see who I really am, and no one can hurt me. One day, the Lord came knocking and said, 'Jim, let Me in. I can help you.' I could have said, 'Oh, no; there's too much ugliness in here. You can't come in.' Because my heart was full of hatred, and it was tearing me apart. But the Lord said, 'Trust me; open your heart to Me, and I will clean all that out.'

"He's asking the same question of you today. Will you continue to live all closed in and self-protective? Or will you open your heart to Him," he opened his hand, "and let Him heal your soul-pain? It's your choice. Will you choose to trust Him?"

Suddenly, Graber was angry. "What do you know of my soul-pain?! And you're doing the same thing to me that you did to all the rest!"

"I know nothing of your pain, but Jesus does. He wants to heal it, if you'll let Him."

The openness of a moment ago had disappeared in the panic of a defensive reaction. "No! Stop it! I won't let you!"

Kirk removed his hand from the desk, sat back, and changed the subject. "For what purpose did you call me in here?"

Graber took a deep breath. "Two reasons: to find out what makes you tick. Secondly, to give you an opportunity to convince me not to turn in that recording."

"I appreciate your good intentions, but I have no wish to conceal the contents of that recording. Have you answered the first question to your satisfaction?"

"No, not really. I hear your words, but I don't understand them."

"I doubt that you can understand it fully unless you choose to trust Him. But I want you to know that I'm available anytime you want to ask a question. The door is always open. Secondly, no matter what you have done or might do in the future, you will never be my enemy. Will you remember those two things?"

Graber didn't acknowledge either one. "You may go now."


	11. Chapter 11

Author's Note: In the interests of avoiding too much in italics, mental conversations are depicted using asterisks instead of quote marks. Personal thoughts and conversations with God are still rendered in italics. These conventions will be used throughout this author's stories.

Chapter 11

They shook hands and Kirk left, expecting to find an escort waiting for him in the outer office. No one was there. Debating returning to Graber's office, he decided to check the corridor first. It was empty. Hesitating only briefly, he strode down the corridor, sure that he could find his own way back to the cell.

The probability that this was accidental approached zero. Chuck simply wasn't that inept. Kirk wondered if this was Graber's idea of a joke. If it was Chuck's idea, he would enjoy teasing him about it. In fact, he would do that, no matter whose idea it was. Curious that he encountered no security officers en route, he was indeed startled to discover, when he arrived, that no one was there, and the door was locked. Looking around carefully to be certain he had not mistaken the location, he retraced his steps to the nearest intercom. All he could get out of it was white noise.

So, the plot was much more complex than he had originally assumed. His task now was to find the brig without going anywhere that could be construed as trying to escape. He checked every intercom he came to; they had all been disabled. He wracked his brain trying to remember what he knew of the layout of this starbase. It wasn't much. He could avoid the transporter room he had used before, but there must be others he was unaware of. The public shops and recreation areas were several decks above his present location. Was the brig between here and there, or was it above the public decks? Could he risk appearing in public to ask directions? Would he be recognized? Probably. Better not risk it.

Suddenly he recalled an impression he'd had the first time they'd taken him to see Sam. He thought the route had been rather circuitous. Perhaps they had been avoiding the brig. Okay, he would check it out. If that proved a false lead, he would go back to Graber's office and admit he was lost. But his hunch proved correct, and they were waiting for him, wide grins on their faces, a stopwatch held prominently visible.

"This doesn't look like the proper atmosphere for a security department with a missing prisoner." Kirk grinned back. "Somebody want to tell me what's going on?"

Randy explained. "Commander's orders. Seems he was told to allow you to make an escape attempt. The Chief told him you wouldn't go. I gathered he wasn't believed. What with the cameras in all the corridors, they'll know you're here, but we should report in. Steve, do the honors, please."

"Yes, sir." He was the one holding the stopwatch. Pressing the intercom switch, he spoke. "Chief, Ensign Gadd here, sir, at the brig. Operation NS complete, sir. The quarry has arrived."

"And the winning score, Ensign?"

"By my watch, sir, the time was 14.9 minutes."

"My congratulations to Randy. Tell him I'll pay up before the day is out."

"Yes, sir. Any other orders, sir?"

"Make our guest comfortable. Byrd out."

Kirk inquired, "Operation NS?"

Bob laughed, "Stands for 'non-escape', but Graber doesn't know that. And Randy just made a pile on you, so I'd make him buy you a drink."

"In the brig?"

"Well, maybe later."

"How about a free back rub instead?"

Randy laughed. "You're on."

Kirk asked, "How come you're such a good guesser anyway?"

"Some made wrong assumptions. Others just underestimated you. I know exactly how long it takes to get from Graber's office down to your cell, and back up here to the brig. Some said you'd come straight here, but that was ridiculous. Because the corridors were evacuated, I assumed there'd be no delay at the 'lift. So the only variable was how long you would take to think about it. I gave you two minutes."

"That's a pretty high standard to live up to."

"You've been thinking on your feet and making fast decisions all your life. You don't know any other way to live. It was a cinch bet. The Chief was the only other close competition. He said 16 minutes; I said under 15; so I win by a tenth of a minute."

"Now that I'm here, I don't suppose you'll let me talk to my people?"

"No, I'm sorry. I really am. I can let you see them on the way to your cell, but they can't see or hear you."

"I'll take what I can get. Thank you, Randy."

Kirk was surprised at the strength of his emotional response to seeing his friends. It made him realize how much he had internalized the more permanent separation he knew was coming. He let the pain of grief wash over him, making no effort to hide it from Randy and Bob. Tears streaming down his cheeks, he stared at each of them for long minutes, drinking in the sight to hold for future memories.

Uhura was softly singing to herself. Chekov was pacing his cell, reciting Scripture. Sulu was exercising. Scotty was designing something in his head, having no access to a computer terminal. Bones appeared to be taking a nap, but that was probably a deception. Spock was sitting cross-legged on the floor in meditation. Suddenly Spock turned his head and looked intently at the door.

_He knows I'm here_, thought Kirk. _But how? Must be all this emotion I'm emitting._

*Spock, I'm sorry.*

*Don't be. I grieve with thee.*

*Spock! How can we talk like this through a force field?*

*Captain, you are possibly alarming our keepers. Is that wise?*

*No. Do you suppose we could do this if I'm not right outside your cell?*

*I have no idea.*

*Try again in five minutes. I should be alone by then.*

*Understood. Spock out.*

Kirk moved away from Spock's cell and entered his own. Both Randy and Bob were concerned about him, but neither seemed to notice anything unusual about his behavior in front of Spock's cell. Assuring them he would be fine, Kirk just sat on the bunk for several minutes. This was the first time he had actually been alone for almost a week. He found the silence shocking, and not quite peaceful.

_Lord, did I make a mistake? Should I not have mentioned the camera?_

_ No mistake. I wanted you to talk with Commander Graber._

_ Is there something else I should have said?_

_ No. His heart is not yet open._

_ Then why am I not at peace?_

Suddenly Kirk was distracted by the thought that it had been well over five minutes, and he had not heard from Spock. He tried unsuccessfully to shrug it off, telling himself he hadn't really expected it to work. Standing as close to the force field as he dared, Kirk tried to mentally bridge the gap between himself and Spock. It was no use. He gave up and flung himself back on the bunk, for the moment, not caring who might be watching.

He was more disturbed by that brief communication with Spock than he would like to admit. It seemed to accentuate the present silence and separation. Again overwhelmed with grief, he turned his face to the wall and sobbed. Gut-wrenching sobs such as he had not experienced since the day he gave his life to the Lord. Finally exhausted, emotionally, physically, and mentally, he stopped crying, but there was no sense of release. Instead, he settled into a deep depression, almost despair.

_What's going on, Lord?_

No response. Kirk was suddenly panic-stricken at the idea that he was cut off from the Lord too.

_Wait a minute. Since when do I panic at the idea of being alone, even completely and utterly alone? Satan, you have overplayed your hand. I see now what you are doing to me, and I don't have to put up with it. I belong to Jesus, and you have no power over me. In the name of Jesus and by the power of His blood, Satan and all your demons, leave me alone!_

_ Well done, Jim. They won't be back for a while._

_ Lord, you're joking. That didn't seem well done to me at all. I think You better send me back to class._

_ Jim, you're _in_ class._

_ Okay, I'm listening. Teach me._

_ You need to recognize the attack sooner. The Enemy will attack when you least expect it, when your defenses are down, when your resources are spent. You have spent days giving to others without having any opportunity to replenish your own well. You were a sitting duck._

_ Secondly, you need to recognize the symptoms of an attack. You were aware that you'd lost touch with My peace, but you didn't immediately engage defensive maneuvers. You were distracted. Another signal was that you no longer cared about the needs of others. How do you think Randy felt having to listen to your sobs?_

_ You're right. I didn't care. Forgive me, Lord._

_ I forgive you, Jim. And Randy won't understand, but you need to try anyway._

_ Now, Lord?_

_ There's one other thing. The Enemy's favorite tactic is to throw negative emotions at you in such a way that you think they're yours. Anger, fear, and lust are his typical weapons. By the way, depression is a form of anger, turned inward. If he can get you in any of those, despair and destruction are not far behind. He almost had you with depression. But he made the mistake of adding fear. He's not smart enough to have figured out that you would see that for what it was, because there's very little you are actually afraid of. Now go talk to Randy, and we'll discuss this again later._

xxxx

A few minutes earlier, Chuck had arrived at the brig and stuck his head into the monitoring room.

"How's it going, Randy? Everybody okay?"

"I'm not sure, sir. Things are normal for the six who've been here all along. I don't think Kirk is okay, but I don't know what normal looks like for him, so I'm not sure."

"He looks quiet enough. What's the problem?"

"He's quiet now, yes, but he sure wasn't a bit ago. And even now, he's curled up in a tight fetal position. Medical sensors show he's not sleeping either."

"Did you have any problems when he got here?"

"No, but even that was a bit odd. At first, he was fine. Everybody was joking around. You know how he can put people at ease just with his body language. But then he wanted to see his staff. I told him he couldn't talk to them, but I'd let him look as he went past. He stopped in front of each cell and just stared for several minutes. Didn't say a word, but he was upset, and I mean very upset. Tears streaming down his face, but not a sound.

"We got to his cell finally, and he said he would be fine, so we left him. Less than ten minutes later, he's sobbing his heart out. And he kept it up for a solid hour. Only reason he quit is 'cause he's exhausted. Here; I'll play it back for you." The sound of Kirk's sobs filled the little room briefly, til Randy cut it off. "See, I told you; I wouldn't have believed it either. I spent six hours with that man, and they don't come any tougher. That man can take anything. I would have sworn nothing could make him fall apart. What could possibly turn him into a sobbing baby?" He pushed his chair back, but there wasn't room to pace.

"And another thing: he's not stupid enough to think that nobody's listening, but he doesn't care. If I had his reputation, I don't think I'd spoil it by pulling this kind of a stunt. Don't get me wrong - it's real enough. But with the control he's got, you can't convince me he's powerless to turn it off. No, he _chose_ to sob uncontrollably for an hour. I just don't know why." He stared at Chuck as if to demand an answer to the unanswerable.

Chuck leaned against the doorway, trying to keep this casual. "Randy, you're contradicting yourself. Either he fell apart, or he's still in control. You can't have it both ways. So which is it?"

Randy considered for a moment. "I guess I'd have to say it was pretty controlled. No sign of any anger, just those gut-wrenching sobs."

"Randy, are _you_ okay?" Chuck didn't usually get personal with his people, but Randy was still pretty upset.

"What, me? Yeah, I'll be fine. I just hope he doesn't start in again. I've heard enough of that to last me a long time." Randy swallowed, visibly reining it in.

They were startled by Kirk's voice.

"Randy, can I talk to you for a minute?" He was standing, facing the camera.

"See, I told you he knew I was here. Knows exactly where the camera is too."

"Randy, is it against regulations to talk to me? If so, can you flip the lights, just so I'll know to quit trying?" Kirk asked.

"Go ahead," Chuck encouraged. "I'll watch from here."

Randy pressed a switch. "I'll be right there." Going to Kirk's cell, he deactivated the force field and entered. Kirk was sitting on his bed, so Randy sat on the bunk across from him. Kirk didn't even notice the wide open doorway.

"Jim, are you okay?" Randy sat forward earnestly.

"Yes, Randy, I'm fine. I need to apologize for making you listen to me for the last hour. Will you forgive me for putting you through that?"

"What!?" He sat back so quickly he very nearly hit his head on the wall behind him. "You've got to be kidding!"

"No, Randy, I'm serious. I knew that you or someone else was monitoring, but I didn't care. I didn't think about what it would do to you. I caused you emotional pain by making you listen to mine. I'm sorry. Can you forgive me?"

"Yes, but -" Randy was speechless for a moment. "I don't understand you!"

Kirk laughed. "You're in good company. Nobody else does either, except..." Kirk fell silent and smiled sadly.

"Your friends do, don't they?" Randy was quietly sympathetic.

"Yes, they do. We've worked together a long time."

"Jim, can I ask you something? I understand if you don't want to talk about it, but..." He trailed off into silence, clearly not entirely comfortable.

"Go ahead, Randy. I don't mind," Kirk encouraged.

"After what I dished out to you last week, I didn't figure there was anything you couldn't take. I don't understand what could possibly have you so upset. Also, why are you willing to show me how upset you are? And finally, how can you be calmly sitting here talking to me as if nothing's wrong?"

"Good questions, all with complex answers. The second is possibly the easiest. I assume you mean, why would I show anyone, not you in particular."

"Right." Randy looked relieved that Kirk was taking the questions seriously.

"And is the thinking behind the question the idea that tough guys never reveal their emotions?"

He grinned a little nervously, privately considering himself included. "Yes, I suppose so."

"Randy, let me ask you a question. And I want an honest answer, not what you think won't offend me. As a result of your witnessing my display of emotion, has your opinion of me as a man gone up or down?"

"Up, certainly. I don't think I'd have the courage to do that."

"Why does it take more courage to display emotion, than not?"

Randy had to think about that. "Well, I guess because I don't want to risk being that open to attack."

"And in your estimation, would most tough guys come to the same conclusion?"

"Yes, probably."

"Then, in fact, I'm not risking my reputation after all, am I? But the truth is, I wouldn't care if I was. My identity, my self-worth isn't based on what others think of me, but on who the Lord says I am."

Randy didn't really understand that, but he wasn't about to interrupt.

"I'm going to answer the last question next, and leave the big one for last. Humans are made up of three parts: The body, the soul, and the spirit. The spirit is the essence of who I really am. I have a body and a soul, but I am a spirit. The body is the physical container for who I am. The soul is made up of three parts: the mind, the will, and the emotions. The mind is the data-processor. The will is the decision-maker. The emotions feel things.

"So the emotions are only one part of what makes me who I am. I rarely let them take complete control of my behavior. Most of the time, I listen to them as one of the elements in the decision-making process. I express them when and how it seems appropriate in the context of the larger situation.

"In this situation, we could not carry on this conversation if I were still sobbing. Nor would it bless you to see emotional pain all over my face, or in my body language. So while I am still aware of it, I have set it aside in order to talk with you."

He paused, and Randy nodded understanding.

Kirk continued. "The last issue, I sense is really two questions. You cannot reconcile the guy who can take anything with the guy who sobs as if his heart is broken. Secondly, you want to know what the source of my emotional pain is. First, let me assure you I am not schizophrenic. To reconcile the two, you need to know that I could avoid the situation that is causing the pain. To avoid it would require violating values that I hold very highly, but it could be done. Instead, I am choosing to accept the pain, with the same will that chose last week to accept what you did to me."

Randy wasn't at all comfortable with his own performance of the previous week, but now wasn't the time to get into that.

"As to the source of my emotional pain, I don't mind telling you, but it is difficult to explain. By the time this trial is over, I will have lost my career, my ship, my home, and my family. I will miss the _Enterprise_. It's been my home for twenty years. I will miss the crew. We've been like one big family. I will feel lost without my job - the only one I've known for many years." Kirk took a deep breath to keep the emotion under control.

He rushed on to get it over with. "But all of that is as nothing compared with losing those six people you have in this brig. They're more than family. They're brothers in the deepest sense of the word. We've lived and worked together for so many years, and shared crisis after crisis, that now we function as a unit, almost an organism, whose dynamics even we don't understand. It's the tearing asunder of that unit that I am grieving.

"I've kept you a bit longer than a minute, but I hope that helps you understand."

"Yes, thank you, it does. And I want you to feel free to grieve audibly any time you need to. I'll be on duty another four hours."

"I appreciate that, Randy. I doubt there'll be another session like what you heard, though. That was simply a colossal pity party. I was feeling very sorry for myself."

"Maybe, but you have a right to."

"Not in God's eyes, I don't."

At this point, Chuck informed them via intercom that supper had arrived. Randy said a quick goodbye and departed.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Kirk enjoyed a quiet and peaceful meal, reflecting that it would be a while before he took the simple act of eating for granted again. After supper, he settled in for a long evening of much-needed solitude. After an extended time of meditation on some of his favorite Scripture passages, Kirk's heart was again in complete peace. Unbidden, his thoughts went to Eric Mechak and that meeting on the free fall court. He zeroed in on the moment Spock had given him a fear of pain.

xx xx

He was mentally yelling at himself, since Bones wasn't there to do it for him. _You idiot! What arrogance made you think you could pull this off! You didn't even ask Jesus! You just jumped in, hoping you could swim. Well, I deserve whatever I get, but Eric doesn't need to watch me fall apart. So Lord, I ask you to do what's best for Eric. At least the terror's not so bad I can't think. Quit stalling and get on with it! Okay._ He took a deep breath and tried to steady himself. _I accept the fear. I am terrified of the pain. I know it's going to be unbearably awful, and I can't stand the thought of it. Nevertheless, that is what I must do - think about the pain. Focus on it. Feel it. The walls blocking the pain must come down. Are you crazy? Do you know what's behind those walls? They're there for your protection. Yes, I do know that behind those walls is overwhelming agony. And yes, I'm crazy, but I'm not here to be protected. I reject that idea. I will take down the walls. Feel the pain. Accept the pain. Accept the fear. I am terrified of the pain, but I will take down the walls anyway._

As Kirk argued with himself, he developed a mental image of a thick concrete wall that he was bashing with a sledge hammer. With every hit, he repeated the litany: _I accept the pain_. Eventually he opened a hole in the wall and the pain began to leak through. After a lengthy battle with the terror, he was able to widen the hole enough to crawl through. He stood up on the other side, leaning against the wall. He was waist-deep in pain. From this point on, retreat would not be possible. If he moved away from this wall, he would never find the hole again. He shouldered the sledge hammer and waded through the pain to the second wall. This one he must utterly destroy, not merely put a hole in. So he hammered up and down the length of it until it had developed a myriad of cracks. Finally the wall gave. Suddenly it simply disintegrated. Kirk was caught in the flood of pain that rushed in, not even able to finish his litany. Coherent thought was no longer possible. Nothing existed except the pain, the terror, and his acceptance of them both.

"That's enough, gentlemen. You may cease," Spock instructed.

They collapsed on the floor, again exhausted. Kirk's body slowly stopped shaking, but he did not move or speak.

"Eric, what do you see in his eyes? Is he aware of you?"

"He is still swimming in pain. He's looking at me, but I don't think he sees me."

"Jim, can you hear me?"

"Yes."

"It's over. We're finished."

"Did I...?"

"No, Jim, you didn't. Your whole body was shaking, but you never moved. You did not even grab Eric's wrists."

"Thank you, Lord."

"Jim, I can take some of your pain, if you will allow it."

"No, Spock, I don't think you should do that."

"As you wish. You should know, however, that every movement in the next 48 hours will bring renewed agony. And you cannot simply lie down. The first twelve hours you must keep moving, or your muscles will stiffen. Then a vigorous workout should enable you to rest for several hours, although you will still find it exceedingly difficult to get out of bed. By the third morning, however, the worst is over. Complete recovery takes approximately one week."

"Your bedside manner is as bad as McCoy's." Kirk recovered quickly as he again blocked the pain. Turning to Spock, he smiled. "Thanks for the warning, though." He carefully moved each of his arms and legs, just to make sure he could, then turned back to Eric. "What do you see in my eyes now, Eric?"

"The pain is gone again, and I can see the love, joy, and peace. I guess you're blocking the pain, but how can you possibly be joyful after that?"

"The fear is gone from your eyes, and that is cause for rejoicing. Also, I am joyful because I have witnessed another miracle. God kept me from falling apart, not for my sake, but for yours. After Spock gave me the fear, I was convinced that nothing short of a miracle would keep me from falling apart. Also that I really deserved to fall apart, because of my arrogance in thinking that I wouldn't. God supplied the miracle because He knows best what you needed. Can you tell me when you lost the fear?"

"I think it began to change when I agreed to watch one more time. You were so totally sure you could do this. And you did. But now you tell me that in the middle of it, you were sure you couldn't do it. Why did you do it anyway, even when you were sure you would fail?"

"The middle of a crisis is not the time to make decisions of that kind. I had already decided what I was going to do, and how I felt about it at that point was not going to change my decision. Forcing myself to actually face the pain, in spite of my terror of it, was not something I could have done, if I had entertained the possibility of changing my mind. As it was, it was one of the more difficult things I've done in my life. Can you tell me what your attitude is toward Spock at this point?"

Eric gazed at the far wall, as if trying to marshal his thoughts into words he dared say to his captain. "When we started this last month, I was irritated and annoyed with him. When he survived the first session and asked for more, I was furious. I thought he was mocking me. When he survived the second session, I hated him, because he could do what I could not. I wanted to destroy him. After the third session, he tried to reason with me. I wasn't interested until he offered to teach me. I think he knew I hated him and why. After tonight, I believe he could teach me, though I doubt I'll ever be as good as you."

Kirk smiled and didn't object.

Bringing his focus back to Kirk's face, Eric continued. "What I'm most surprised about is his relationship with you. I cannot imagine asking any of my friends to do what he asked you to do. And don't tell me it was easy, because I know it wasn't - not any of it. Yet you did whatever he told you to do, without question, and without regard for what it would cost you personally. That kind of obedience is essential in combat, but this isn't combat, and besides, you're his superior officer, not the other way around.

"Furthermore, his instructions were often anything but precise, yet you seemed to know exactly what he wanted. And he always knew what you were doing, without being told. I don't see how such a thing is possible without either discussion or rehearsal. You must have done this many times before."

This time, he clearly expected a response. "Actually, no. We've never done this before. Nor talked about it. In fact, he's never sat down and tried to teach me how to do this. Over the years we've worked together, I've picked it up from him without consciously working at it. So when he needed a way to reach you, he asked me, because he knew I could do what he needed. But you still haven't answered my question: How do you feel about Spock now?"

"I was coming to that. I have long admired you, Captain, from a distance. Never have I gotten such a close view of who you are. I will never forget this night. And in appreciation for what you have done, I will do what you want. I commit to you that I will spend ten hours over the next month getting to know Spock."

Kirk grinned his victory. "Thank you. I guarantee you won't regret it."

xx xx

As far as Kirk was concerned, nothing about it had been traumatic, but he knew what the court would do with it. Eric and the others did not need that ruining their lives. He had guaranteed there would be no official repercussions, and he intended to keep that promise. Besides, this court-martial wasn't about Eric's meeting anyway.

He reflected back to the day, some three months earlier, when the Lord had told him to expect something. Even so, he had not anticipated it would be like this. It had started with his praying Psalm 139, where it talked about searching his heart.

_Lord, You know me inside out. Even so, I want You to search every crevasse, and show me what is not pleasing to You, what You want to change._

_ Do you truly love Me more than anything else?_

_ Are You saying I don't, Lord? Whatever it is, Lord, take it away. I don't want anything to come between us._

_ Jim, I'm not sure you understand what you're asking for. Read Job._

He had read the book three times during the course of the next week. Then, freed from the latest politically messy assignment, he had snatched a three-hour block of time to spend with the Lord.

_Okay, Lord, I've read Job. But I'm not sure what You're telling me. I don't have any family, or visible wealth either. It's true I've enjoyed good health. But I've largely taken that for granted. Are You saying I love my good health more than You?_

_ What about the _Enterprise_, your crew, your identity as Captain; what about Spock, Bones, and the rest? Are they not your family?_

Kirk was appalled at the idea of the Lord killing off all his friends and destroying the _Enterprise_. But he quietly said, _Lord, do I love them more than You?_

_ No, I don't think you do, because while you are shocked at the idea, there is no rebellion in your heart at the thought that I might take it all away from you. That is good, because that's exactly what I'm going to do._

_ You want me to be a Job?_

_ I want you to be better than Job. In the end, he questioned Me. He did not know Me as you do. I want you to let Me take you through the long, dark valley, without questioning My purpose or My character. I want your faith and trust in Me to be as unshakeable as My love for you. I have great works designed for you, but first, the refiner's fire. Will you accept the shaking as from Me?_

_ Yes, Lord, I will. I do not know that my faith is strong enough, but right now, I choose to trust You. Bring me face to face with that decision as often as You need to. I have two questions._

_ Ask them._

_ If it is possible, can You spare the lives of my crew, my friends?_

_ I am pleased that you think first of them rather than yourself. I will do what you ask. What is your other question?_

_ Why are you telling me about this in advance? Why not just do it?_

_ Because I do not want you to be taken by surprise. Also, I want you to learn the Klingon language fluently._

But he had been surprised anyway. He hadn't caught on for a day and a half, til Gil told him about his replacement.

_I'm sorry, Lord._

_ Not a problem. You did what I wanted you to do, even without knowing what was going on. I am pleased._

_ Thank you. I have another question: Earlier tonight in the middle of that attack from the Enemy, I could not hear Your voice. Why? And is this something I can expect more of?_

_ Jim, your ability to hear My voice with clarity is unusual. Many faithful brothers cannot. This is both a blessing and a problem. For the past year, I have been training you to listen for My voice in the smallest of things, as well as the big things. You have done well. But during that time, I have maintained a protective shield around you. I have not allowed the Enemy to speak to you, because I wanted you to become intimately acquainted with My voice._

_ Since you hear My voice so clearly, you will probably also hear the Enemy's voice clearly. You will need to learn to distinguish the difference. When I remove the shield, he may very well badger you constantly for a time. You will need to be able to do battle while maintaining your peace. This is one part of the refining process._

_ Another is dealing with the complete absence of My voice. One of the Enemy's favorite tactics is to jam the communication lines. Can you continue to trust Me even when you cannot hear My voice? Or will you feel abandoned?_

_ I don't know, but I have a feeling I'm going to find out._

_ Well said. You will need your willingness to endure in the coming days. In addition to these internal struggles, your external circumstances will be anything but pleasant. Satan thinks he can conquer you. He thinks that if he can completely isolate you, that you will bow the knee to his agenda without ever realizing what you are doing. He is a fool to think that he knows you better than I do._

_ I have two reasons for allowing Satan to have his way with you. The first, as I have said, is to refine you, to make you a more perfect vessel for my purposes. The second reason is that what he plans for you will place you in the unique position of influencing an entire race. And that suits My purpose for you very nicely._

_ It doesn't take much guessing to know You're talking about the Klingons. So You're going to let Satan throw me to the Klingons. And when I get there, you'll have arranged it so that my death will somehow influence the entire race?_

_ I said nothing about dying._

_ You didn't have to. I know perfectly well what the Klingons will do with a prisoner named James Kirk. I have just one question: If I can't hear Your voice, how will I know what You want me to do?_

_ You may have to guess, based on what You know of My character and My purposes. But know this, Jim: even if you cannot hear Me, I will never be far from you._

Shortly thereafter, Sam Cogley stopped in to report.

"How's Eric?"

"He's holding his own. They think he's going to make it. Carl's climbing the walls. I think he was ready to talk, but I didn't give him a chance. When I told him you wouldn't let him testify, he just collapsed into the chair. For a minute there, I thought he was going to cry. Then he looked up at me with a very bleak eye, and said, 'That figures. The Captain's always been ready to give himself for us. That doesn't make it any easier to take, though.' Then I told him what you said about all things working for good. He smiled and looked more peaceful. 'Okay. Silence it is,' he said.

"Then I went to the prosecutor. Told her I was getting nowhere on any corroborating witnesses, so the defense was as ready as it was going to get. She set the trial for noon tomorrow, so I'll want to go over some things with you in the morning. Oh, and Jim, I talked to your friends in here, and nobody is happy with you."

"I'm not surprised, but did they agree to stay?"

"I didn't ask for any commitments. I just told them what you said. Spock was the only one who didn't seem surprised or shocked. But I can never tell what he's thinking."

"Did he give you any message for me?"

"Yes, he did. It's just two words: 'Silence. Regrets.'"

"Thank you. That's what I needed to know."

Sam said goodnight and departed. Kirk turned in, not expecting to sleep much. To his surprise, he slept well for eight hours. The orderly bringing breakfast woke him and departed. Kirk's instinctive first action was to greet the Lord.

_Good morning, Lord. Thanks for a good night's sleep._

_ Good morning, Captain. How are you feeling today?_

Alarms went off in Kirk's head as he responded, _I'm fine. Any instructions for this morning?_ Searching for the source of his unease, Kirk only half-heard the reply.

_Captain, are you sure Spock won't talk? Should you try to get him a message?_

Then he had it. The Lord invariably addressed him as Jim. This voice called him Captain. And he was asking questions designed to instill doubt. One question of his own should confirm his suspicion: _Do you agree that Jesus Christ is the Son of God?_

_ I'm glad you asked that question. You're really very clever. No wonder your people look to you for wisdom and direction._

_ Flattery will get you nowhere. In the name of Jesus and by the power of His blood, I command you to leave my presence and go where Jesus will send you._ Immediately Kirk's unease vanished, and he felt the peace of the Lord return. _Thank you, Lord._

He spent an hour praising the Lord and reciting Scriptures. Sam showed up about 0900 and went over with him the details of the courtroom procedure. Kirk listened only halfheartedly, not really caring. Sam was irritated at his lack of attention.

"Jim! Have you even been listening? Did you hear anything I said?"

"Sure. I stand up; I sit down. I stand up again. When he finishes reading the charges, I say, 'Not guilty.' Then I sit down again. After everybody else is done, you call me to the stand. I deny the charges. Then the judge calls a recess. He'll probably give the verdict on the following day. Sounds simple and straightforward. Did you say you're going to call Spock as a witness?"

"I didn't say. They expect it. I would like to. Do you object?"

"No. I trust Spock. He won't talk."

"Fine, then. Carl and Eric won't have to appear, since they are both 'gravely ill.' Any questions?"

"No. You are very thorough."

"This is your last chance to change your mind. Are you sure I can't-?"

"Positive. And remember, I told you that you wouldn't like it."

"Yeah, I remember, and you're right, I don't like it. I'll be back for you in an hour. That'll give you time to eat and shower."

Sam stopped in to brief Spock on the procedure. Spock at least pretended to be listening.

"Any questions?"

"None."

"Now about your testimony, you realize what's going to happen if you don't talk."

"Yes."

"It's been my experience that occasionally, a client doesn't know what is in his best interests. There are times -"

"Mr. Cogley," Spock interrupted, "This trial is not about serving the best interests of Captain Kirk. I regret that you do not understand the situation."

"Jim told me you wouldn't, but I had to try." Sam shook his head in frustration. "I just don't understand what kind of a friend would help him destroy his career."

Spock leaned forward and spoke quietly. "Sam, I believe the Lord would have me show you something. Would you please look into my eyes for a moment?"

Sam looked and was shocked by the deep anguish and grief he saw. After a moment, Spock's eyes were again unreadable.

"Jim knows that pain is there. It is mirrored in his own soul. He knows that in spite of that pain, I will do what I have to do, just as he will. What kind of a friend does he think I am?"

"He trusts you."

"Yes, and he trusts you, too. Are you willing to endure the pain?"

"Yes, I am." Sam sighed. "Thank you, Spock. It helps to have you put it into perspective. I'll see you in the courtroom."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The trial went much as Kirk expected it to. It was something of a shock to see the courtroom packed with _Enterprise_ crew people. He hadn't really considered the impact this would have on them. He began praying for them. He also noticed what seemed like an over-abundance of security officers, all of whom he knew on a first-name basis. He wondered if they expected a riot.

The testimony of Greg and Cory was an interesting mix of fact and fiction. And it was well-rehearsed. Their stories matched to a tee. It was almost believable. Sam started to rise when it was time for cross-examination, but Kirk put a hand on his arm to restrain him. Sam paused, then said, "No questions, your Honor," and sat down.

Shortly thereafter, Sam called Spock to the stand. After several preliminary questions, which Spock answered, Sam got to the crucial one.

"Will you tell the court what occurred in that meeting?"

Spock looked over at Kirk for a long moment. Not thinking it really necessary, but wanting nonetheless to reassure Spock of his wishes, Kirk clasped his hands together, steepling his index fingers so as to place them over his mouth in the classic gesture for silence. Kirk suspected that most of those in the courtroom, including the judges, saw and understood the non-verbal message, but he didn't care. It wouldn't change the outcome any.

Spock refused to answer the question. When threatened with contempt of court, he drew himself up and said, quietly but clearly, "I give you my word that nothing occurred in that meeting that would endanger the Federation. I gave my word not to reveal the contents of that meeting, and I have not broken that word, nor shall I now, or in the future. I will say that, if I were at liberty to discuss it, my account of the meeting in question would differ significantly from that of the testimony already given."

"Did Captain Kirk torture Eric Mechak until he agreed to become a Christian?"

"No, he did not."

"No further questions."

The prosecution chose not to cross-examine, so Spock stepped down from the stand. Returning to his seat required him to pass directly in front of Kirk. As he did so, they made eye contact, and Kirk smiled briefly.

"No regrets, Spock."

Spock nodded acknowledgment, and that was all there was time for.

Kirk was called to the stand next. Sam asked him the same preliminary questions. He too refused to answer the crucial question.

"The contents of that meeting are personal and confidential. If I were to break my word, I would be establishing a precedent that would make the word 'confidential' meaningless. No officer would feel free to share anything he didn't want to be made public in a courtroom sometime in the future. In spite of the testimony you have heard, the only people who know what happened in that meeting are those who were there, and that's the way it's going to stay."

"So you did not torture Eric Mechak?"

"I did not physically torture him, and the subject of becoming a Christian was never mentioned."

"No further questions."

The prosecution took the bait.

"You said you did not physically torture him. Did you torture him mentally?"

"I did observe signs of emotional stress, and it would not be difficult to interpret events in such a way as to say that I was the cause of his distress. I have noticed over the years that it is not uncommon for a starship captain to cause emotional distress during conversations with members of his crew."

The room twittered with suppressed laughter; the judge called for order; and the prosecution abandoned the attack. A recess was called until noon the following day, when a verdict would be announced. As the courtroom cleared, Kirk tried for a chance to talk to Greg and Cory, but they would not permit it. Considering and abandoning the idea of a written message, he asked the Lord to arrange an opportunity.

The answer came sooner than he expected. On the way back to his cell, they rounded a corner and came face to face with Greg and Cory. They were taken completely by surprise and had no opportunity to evade him.

"Hold up a minute, Gil. I'd like a word with these gentlemen."

Greg and Cory had stiffened to attention and backed against the wall.

"At ease, gentlemen. Greg, Cory, I want you to know that I forgive you for what you have done today. It does not matter to me whether you did it with malice intended, or whether you are the victims of someone else's plot. If you come to the point of repenting of today's actions, please contact me, or Mr. Spock if I am unavailable. We want to hear from you. Also, I do not regret, even now, what occurred in that meeting with Eric, and I want to thank you again for your help. If there is ever anything I can do for you, please let me know."

"Yes, sir," was all they would say, and they refused to look him in the eye. He was tempted to press further, but decided the corridor was no place for confrontation, so he let it pass. The next move, if any, would be theirs. As he continued down the hall, Kirk prayed for both of them.

Shortly after Kirk returned to his cell, supper was served. Immediately thereafter, Chuck appeared at his door. Kirk smiled in obvious pleasure to see him.

"Come in, sit down. What a pleasant surprise!"

Chuck entered and sat. Like Randy, he left the force field turned off.

Kirk grinned. "Don't you guys believe in closing the door?"

"Why bother? You aren't going anywhere." Chuck grinned in return.

"What brings you here? How can I help you?"

"Why are you always interested in helping others? With the mess you're in, I should think you could use some help yourself."

Kirk shook his head sadly. "There's nothing you can do about that."

"Anyway, one way or the other, you're going to be leaving us tomorrow. I have a department full of guys who want to see you before you go."

"I'd like to see them too. If you want to leave the door open, I can hold visiting hours all night. I have nothing more pressing to do." He said it as a joke.

"Actually what I had in mind was a gathering down in that storage room we used for a cell. We'd have to do it twice, splitting the group in half. I'd give you a chance to speak to the group as a whole, then give everybody a couple minutes to speak with you individually. I figure an hour and a half for each group, three hour time commitment altogether. What do you say?" Chuck wasn't doing this if Kirk was at all reluctant.

"It sounds fine to me, but what does Graber think of this idea?"

"He doesn't understand why we want to do it, but it's fine with him. After that 'escape' nonsense yesterday, I think he's finally convinced. Anyway, it'll take me an hour to set this up. I'll send somebody to get you about 2000."

Kirk spent the intervening time in prayer. It was frustratingly one-sided, but he didn't want to invite any demons in, so he forced himself to avoid asking any questions. It was comforting to know that the Lord was near even though he had no subjective sense of His presence.

His sensory deprivation wasn't quite complete, however. He still had a sense of peace. But even if that too disappeared, he would cling to the truth that Jesus was near. He knew the Lord was more powerful than the Enemy, and if it became absolutely necessary, He could and would punch through the communications jam and tell him what he needed to know.

The fact that he did not expect to survive this mission was nothing new, and so received very little of his emotional attention. What did receive his attention was that he needed to maintain his trust in the Lord. So he fortified his defenses toward that objective by meditating on Scripture passages that reinforced that trust.

The security department party was a great success, and Kirk enjoyed himself. He shared briefly concerning what he had learned over the past year about building Christian community, then he opened it up for questions. Most were serious questions about their walk with the Lord. A few were funny. One guy asked who was the best player of the mirror game.

Kirk laughed. "The best player I know is my first officer, Mr. Spock, who taught me the game a number of years ago. Of those who played the game in this room, unquestionably the best player is your chief, Chuck Byrd. He has an instinctive grasp of the game, and needed no instruction from me."

This answer seemed to satisfy, and Kirk suspected there had been some friendly betting going on concerning his answer to that question.

At the end of three hours, Kirk was tired but happy. Randy and Chuck accompanied him back to the brig. In the lift, Kirk looked thoughtfully at Randy.

"Can I ask you a question, Randy?"

"Sure."

"Graber told me you had orders to harass me. How much of what you did in that cell was a put-on? You seem like a different person than you were then."

Randy grinned. "Yes, I was being nasty on purpose, but not nearly as nasty as I had planned to be. Your attitude was so incredible; I found myself liking you and forgetting what I was supposed to be doing. And sleeping was a fake. I heard every word you said to Bob. I was in such inner turmoil that I just couldn't keep up the harassment.

"I was pretty discouraged, til I found out the next day that nobody else was doing any better. Then I began to reflect on what you had said to Bob, and what it was about you that had me so rattled. Finally I went to talk to Bob about it, and that's when I became a Christian."

By this time they had arrived at Kirk's cell. Randy had one final comment.

"If I'm going to pay you that backrub I owe you, it'll have to be tonight. So let me know," he gestured at the hidden camera, "when you're ready to turn in."

"Thanks, Randy, I'll do that." Randy departed, leaving Chuck alone with Kirk.

"Jim, I don't know how to thank you for what you have done for us this week, for what you've done for me. I think it's incredibly unfair what they're doing to you - a new low in the annals of Starfleet politics - but if it weren't for this court-martial, we would never have met you.

"I would like to give you something, as a token of my gratitude. The only thing within my power to give, that I know would have meaning for you, is some time with your friends." Kirk's face lit up. "I can't give you all night, just an hour. And it won't be private. We'll bring the six of them in here. It'll be crowded, but doable. And I will have to stay. I have to be able to report with certainty that no conspiracy was discussed."

"It'd be safer to listen in from the monitoring room. With seven of us and one of you, we could easily overpower you." The fact that they wouldn't was irrelevant.

"I had thought to have a couple of men as backup in the corridor."

Kirk shook his head. "An hour is too long for anybody to remain in firing readiness. Besides, even three of you isn't enough if we wanted to take you out. Chuck, you're allowing yourself to be swayed by what you think of me personally. What you're planning just isn't good security."

Chuck knew it, but wasn't happy that Kirk said so. "Are you refusing my offer?"

"I'm surprised Graber okayed it. It's a lot riskier than the party downstairs."

"He doesn't know about this," Chuck admitted reluctantly.

Kirk stared at him for a long moment. Turning away, he closed his eyes briefly, then sighed deeply. Turning back to Chuck, his voice was quiet.

"I can't, Chuck. I appreciate what you're trying to do, and it would be wonderful to be able to talk with them, but it just isn't the right thing to do. I've certainly done my share of circumventing orders that don't fit the situation, but here, there simply isn't adequate justification for it. No one's life is at stake; it's just my personal desire to talk with my friends. I will not defy orders for such a purely personal reason. I'm sorry."

Chuck sighed. "I am too. And very sorry I raised your hopes in vain."

"Don't blame yourself for my decision," Kirk urged.

"Enjoy your backrub. Randy's good."

"Thanks. Good night."

Randy was very good, and Kirk enjoyed every minute. He felt tension oozing out of him that he hadn't even known was there. When Randy was finished, Kirk was so relaxed he didn't want to move. Throwing a blanket over him, Randy left quietly. Kirk slept soundly for six hours.

xxxx

The next morning Kirk was surprised to be summoned to what passed for judges' chambers on a starbase. Seated at the desk in front of him was the senior officer on the panel of judges, Commodore Pierce. The other two men were not present.

"Come in, Captain. Sit down, please. Thank you, Ensign. Please wait outside."

Steve left and Kirk sat down, but maintained a respectful silence.

Pierce raised his eyes from the monitor on his desk and gave Kirk a penetrating look. "I realize that this is an unusual procedure, but this entire case is unusual, and I decided a conversation in private was essential before rendering a decision. Nothing you say in here will be entered into the court record. I may find it necessary to share it with the other two men on the panel in order to justify my decision, but it will go no further than that. Do you understand?"

"Sir, if this is preliminary to asking me about that meeting with Eric Mechak, you're wasting your time. I can no more tell you in private than I could in public."

Pierce shook his head in irritation. "I respect your position on that issue. However, there are one or two other things that I do not understand. When I was assigned this case, I was told, unofficially of course, that no matter what evidence was produced, I was to find you guilty. Now that in itself did not shock me; I have received similar instructions on one or two other cases, in return for favors rendered. And don't despise me as a bribe-taker, Captain. I assure you the favors were not monetary, but concerned a matter of the heart." He paused for a reaction from Kirk, but continued when he didn't get one.

"In any event, I was to find you guilty. But the instructions didn't stop there. I was to relieve you of your command, and ship you off to a border outpost - they even told me which one, and how you were to get there. Most especially, I was to see to it that you had absolutely no contact with any of the _Enterprise_ crew, particularly any of your six senior officers."

Kirk's eyes tightened slightly, but that was all.

Pierce sat forward, his expression even more earnestly grave. "Why am I telling you all this? Because I hope you can tell me why. Someone very high up is behind this, and has it well organized. My impression is that they are deeply afraid. What are they afraid of? Surely you must know."

Since the question seemed sincere, Kirk responded honestly. "They are afraid of what they do not understand. I doubt that I can explain it adequately in the limited time we have."

"Try." It was quietly voiced, but no less a command, rather than an invitation.

So Kirk gave him an extremely condensed version of his conversion and the subsequent spread of Christianity aboard the _Enterprise_. "They fear it will spread throughout the Federation, which it will. However, they see this as a bad thing, whereas I see it as wonderful good news.

"They have reached another erroneous conclusion. They think that if they remove me from the _Enterprise_ that the Christian movement will collapse for lack of a leader. They are wrong, but the only way to convince them is to give them exactly what they want and let them watch what happens."

"That's why you wouldn't let Sam tear the case apart? You _want_ me to find you guilty?!" He seemed genuinely shocked.

"Guilt or innocence isn't the issue. Removing me from the _Enterprise_ is. If you do not do as they wish, they will try again. And next time, the attack will undoubtedly include more than just myself."

Pierce still wasn't buying it. "I can't believe you're sitting here trying to persuade me to take your command away from you! There are better ways to retire."

"Retiring is not my intention. Nor is persuading you to any course of action. Rather I am giving you my perspective on the situation. The decision is not mine, but yours and that of the other officers on the panel." Keeping his tone mild, Kirk hoped Pierce wouldn't see his words as a rebuke.

Abruptly sitting back, Pierce cleared his throat. But he spoke graciously, with no hint of anger. "Of course. My apologies, Captain. Thank you for your perspective. I wish I could say it's made my decision clearer."

"Would you object to my praying for you?"

"No, go ahead. I'll take all the help I can get."

"Lord, this man is carrying a heavy burden. I don't know what it is, but You do. Give him the strength and courage he needs at this difficult time. Comfort his grief. Carry his burden. Show him Your love this day, Lord. As regards the decision on this case, show him Your wisdom, Lord. Guide his thoughts. Make the way clear to him. And give him Your peace."

Kirk looked up and saw tears in the Commodore's eyes. Slightly embarrassed, he quickly brushed them away.

"Well, now I have some idea what they're afraid of. If the power behind that short, little prayer is any example, you're truly a force to be reckoned with."

"Sir, the power is not in me; it's in the Lord Jesus Christ. It flows through me and others who belong to Jesus."

Pierce sighed. "I see, or rather, I don't see, but I'll take your word for it. What astonishes me is that I don't feel threatened by you at all."

"The use of force is not the Lord's way. And you are not my enemy."

"You may feel differently about that this afternoon."

"No, sir, I will not," Kirk declared adamantly.

"That's it!" Pierce rose abruptly.

Unsure if this was a sudden dismissal, Kirk started to stand up, but Pierce gestured him to stay.

"I've been puzzling over why this conversation feels so odd. It's because I expected an adversarial attitude from you. Instead since the moment you walked in the door, you've treated me as a friend." Pierce resumed his seat and put his arms on the desk. "How can you sit here, expecting me to destroy your career, and yet call me friend?" This was obviously an urgent question to Pierce.

Kirk prayed for the right words. "I'm trusting the Lord to accomplish His will for my life through you. His purpose in my life is for good. I realize losing my command doesn't look like something good, but the Lord sees things we do not see, and He knows what He's doing. Since I trust Him completely, I have nothing to fear from you."

"You're still talking as if you expect me to find you guilty. But the evidence they've presented is absolutely ridiculous! Do they really expect me to believe it?"

"With all due respect, sir, I don't think they care what you believe."

"You're right, of course. Well, I've got just two hours to settle this mess. Thank you for your input." This time, it was a clear dismissal.

"You're welcome, sir. I will continue to pray for you."


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Back at the brig, Kirk again lingered in front of each cell, saying his silent goodbyes. He knew the courtroom was no place for it. Reaching Spock's door, he was again full of emotion. He stared at his friend for several long moments, not daring to hope for any response.

_ *_I have been, and always will be-*

*-your friend.* Spock's voice completed the thought in Kirk's mind.

*Spock!*

*Yes, Jim, I can hear you.* There was no visible change in Spock's demeanor.

*So much to say, and yet so little that really needs saying. I pray the peace of the Lord to remain in your heart. Live long and prosper, Spock!*

*May the Lord go with you wherever you go. Shalom, Jim, until we meet again.*

Aware that Steve was trying to hide his impatience, Kirk turned away and entered his own cell. He spent the next half-hour in Scripture meditation, trying to calm his soul. Not very successfully. Finally he began simply talking to the Lord.

_Lord, You know I hate saying goodbye. And You know how emotionally upset I am right now. I don't want to go into that courtroom fighting an emotional battle with myself. But I have placed my emotions under Your control, Lord, so right now, I choose to trust You. I accept the path You have for me to walk, no matter how dark or difficult._

Suddenly a supernatural peace came over his soul, and it lasted all the way through the court session.

xxxx

The courtroom was again crowded with _Enterprise_ personnel, his six senior officers surrounded by base security, as was he, himself. After relatively few preliminaries, Kirk was instructed to approach the bench. Whispering to the Lord one more, _I trust You,_ Kirk rose and walked briskly to a point approximately ten feet in front of Commodore Pierce. Turning to face him, Kirk came to attention, his face impassive. However, when Pierce looked up at him, he did not try to hide the warmth in his eyes.

Pierce got the message, loud and clear. Kirk still considered him friend, not foe. And he couldn't possibly know what decision they had reached. In fact, he undoubtedly expected the worst. The man was incredible! Shaking himself mentally, he was suddenly aware the entire courtroom was waiting for him. Looking down, he cleared his throat and began to read.

"As regards the charges brought before this court against Captain James T. Kirk, we find the defendant not guilty." He paused and the room erupted in a cheer. He looked up at Kirk, who hadn't moved or changed his expression. By some sixth sense, Kirk knew he wasn't finished. He banged the gavel for order and continued.

"However, there are other concerns the court wishes to address. While we understand Captain Kirk's position as regards the meeting involving Lieutenant Mechak, we feel it necessary to uphold the authority of the court, and to discourage other witnesses from refusing to testify. Therefore we find Captains Kirk and Spock in contempt of court, and bring the following disciplinary action.

"Captain Spock, please rise and approach the bench." Spock came to stand beside Kirk, who still had not moved. "Captain Spock, you are hereby temporarily reduced in rank to that of Commander, for a period of one year, during which you will remain in your current posting aboard the _Enterprise_. I am required to inform you that you have the option to reverse your position and thereby avoid this disciplinary action. Do you now consent to testify concerning the meeting involving Lieutenant Mechak?"

"No, sir, I do not."

"Very well, Commander Spock, so be it. Captain Kirk, you will retain the rank of Captain, but you will be relieved of your command for a period of one year. Instead you will be given command of Border Outpost #67 in Sector 29 of the Klingon Neutral Zone. At the end of that period, you may or may not be again given command of the _Enterprise_. I am required to inform you also, that you have the option to reverse your position and thereby avoid this disciplinary action. Do you now consent to testify concerning the meeting involving Lieutenant Mechak?"

"No, sir, I do not."

"Very well, Captain Kirk, so be it. You will turn over command of the _Enterprise_ within twenty-four hours to Captain Joshua Young. Captain Young, please approach the bench." Neither Kirk nor Spock moved an inch when Young joined them. "Captain Young, you understand that your posting to the _Enterprise_ is temporary, and may or may not be made permanent at the end of one year. Also, that decision may or may not depend on anything you do or do not do."

"Yes, sir. I understand, sir."

Kirk noticed the mellow quality of Young's voice, but gave no indication that he was aware of the man at all. Kirk's chief thought was that Pierce had created an untenable position for Young. No one could be expected to succeed with that kind of uncertainty hanging over him. It wasn't fair to Young. He would log a protest. Not that it would do any good, but he would do it nonetheless.

Pierce was talking again. "There is another concern which the court wishes to address. It has come to our attention that approximately twelve months ago, several of the senior officers of the _Enterprise_, including Captain Kirk, professed a belief in Jesus Christ as their Lord, and now place allegiance to Him above their oath to Starfleet. Subsequently over three-fourths of the crew of the _Enterprise_ have also become Christians.

"At the highest levels, there is a concern that this Christian movement constitutes a threat to the survival of the Federation. Some feel that we cannot tolerate Starfleet officers with a higher allegiance than that of Starfleet. Others say that Christianity is by its very nature exclusive, and therefore at odds with what the Federation stands for. At its heart, the Federation is about living in harmony with those who are different, including those with different belief systems.

"While the case against Captain Kirk did not produce supportable evidence, the issues it was trying to raise are valid and should be investigated. First, the court wishes to confirm the need for this investigation. Captain Kirk, do you claim that Jesus Christ is your Lord?"

"Yes, sir. I do."

"Mr. Spock, same question."

"Yes, sir. Jesus Christ is my Lord."

"Captain Young, same question."

"No, sir. He is not."

"Commanders McCoy, Scott, Sulu, and Uhura, and Lieutenant Commander Chekov, please approach the bench."

They formed a second row behind Kirk, Spock, and Young. Pierce asked each of them the same question and got affirmative answers from each.

"Now will all personnel from the _Enterprise_ currently in this room please stand." They counted nearly half the crew. "Of those 194 people, if you would answer affirmative to the question: 'Is Jesus Christ your Lord?', please raise your right hand." They counted 175. "Thank you; you may sit down. I believe that confirms the statistics.

"The court hereby appoints a panel of observers to remain aboard the _Enterprise_ a minimum of three months, and longer if the panel deems it necessary. The panel will report its findings to this court, after which a decision will be made concerning Starfleet's position with regard to Christians.

"Captain Kirk, the court would deem an investigation unnecessary at this time if a majority of your senior officers would recant. Are you willing to do so?"

"No sir, I am not."

Pierce asked the same question of the others, and none of the six agreed to deny the Lordship of Jesus.

"Very well, so be it. The panel of observers is as follows: Please rise and approach the bench when I call your name. Samuel Cogley. Yes, right up front here, Sam. Lila Murphy." As she stepped in front of Kirk, he recognized her as the prosecuting attorney. "Lieutenant Commander Charles Byrd."

Kirk was surprised to see his friend Chuck, the security chief, step up next to Lila. The fourth person Pierce called was a male Tellarite civilian named Gliff. Unless Kirk was mistaken, Gliff was dressed as a rock-rigger, one of the jobs typically done by the outcasts of society. The last person on the panel, and its leader, was the man seated to the right of Pierce, Lieutenant Commodore Sullivan, whom Kirk had sensed from the beginning was most hostile. But then Kirk hadn't expected any of them to be friendly.

Pierce asked each of them to state their position with regard to the Lordship of Jesus Christ. They all responded in the negative. No surprise. That was probably a prerequisite. Pierce had a few closing remarks and admonitions. Then they were all dismissed.

Kirk turned first to Young. "Captain Young, may I congratulate you on your posting, however temporary. And my apologies for the circumstances which make it temporary. Yours is not an easy task. If there is anything I can do to assist you, please ask. The crew would undoubtedly prefer to have a few hours to prepare for your arrival. Would a reception at 1900 be suitable?"

Kirk gave no indication of his surprise at Young's appearance. He had the white hair and antennae of an Andorian, although the antennae were short and closer to the sides of his head than normal for that species. But most striking was his skin color: Instead of bright blue, his skin was a pale shade of green. The mellow-sounding voice did not match that of an Andorian, either. Kirk suspected he was a hybrid of some kind.

"That would be fine, Captain. I regret our acquaintance will be so brief. By all accounts, you are a most unusual man."

Andorians didn't like to be touched any more than Vulcans did, so Kirk didn't offer to shake his hand.

"I regret it also. Now, if you will excuse me, there are several matters requiring my attention."

"Certainly, Captain. Until 1900, then."

Kirk turned his attention to finding Lieutenant Commodore Sullivan. He was huddled with the four others on the panel, holding a brief conference.

"Excuse me, sir. May I interrupt long enough to inquire when you wish to board the _Enterprise_? I don't mean to rush you, but the transition of authority will take place this evening, beginning at 1900. I would like to let my people know when to expect you, so that arrangements can be made for your accommodation."

Sullivan gave him a hard stare. "Of course, Captain. With your permission, we will beam aboard within the hour. It is unfortunate you are being allowed to reboard the _Enterprise_ at all, but we certainly wish to monitor all of your communications. And Captain, please inform me of all meetings you schedule."

"Do you wish to assign one of your panel to follow me around and listen to everything I say? For the short time I will be aboard, that should not be a great hardship. Or perhaps you can take turns."

"You would consent to such a thing?" he asked, clearly surprised.

"Yes, sir, I would. Of course, I cannot speak for Captain Young. He will have other considerations besides the panel's need to collect data."

Sullivan was tempted to assign the Tellarite to the job, but he wasn't very certain of Gliff's ability to observe. Lt. Cmdr. Byrd, on the other hand, was on the panel precisely because of his powers of observation. His report on Kirk's detainment had been most impressive.

"Lt. Cmdr. Byrd, you will accompany Captain Kirk, and observe him until he leaves the _Enterprise_ tonight. I will expect a complete report."

"Yes, sir."

Chuck left with Kirk, and they walked over to Commodore Pierce.

"Sir, I would like to thank you for the way in which you have handled this situation. Your actions show considerable wisdom. However, I must log a protest on behalf of Captain Young. He cannot possibly succeed as captain under such a temporary assignment. Crew loyalty is an essential ingredient to his success, and he won't get it, if they expect me back next year. And if by some chance he does succeed, it's not fair to take it away from him."

"You want me to make his posting permanent? Burn your bridges now, so to speak?" He shook his head. "You continue to surprise me, Captain."

"It would be better for the _Enterprise_ if you did. A crew with confused loyalties doesn't function well. There's only one person I know who could successfully command the _Enterprise_ for a year, and then just as successfully give it back to me, with no confusion in the crew's loyalty at either transition, and that person is Mr. Spock. And even for Spock, a year is a long time, longer than anything we've done before."

"Unfortunately I cannot give command to Mr. Spock, and I am not willing to burn your bridges, even if you are. Captain Young will just have to cope." He gave Kirk a penetrating stare. "But I will log your protest, if you insist."

"I do, and thank you, sir."

Kirk left Pierce, followed by Chuck, and searched out Spock and the others. Gathered in a corner, they were obviously waiting for him, nobody saying much of anything. Signs of shock were evident on all faces, except Spock's. Into this circle of depression walked Kirk.

He adopted a light, brisk tone. "Thank you for waiting. My apologies, everyone, for your enforced idleness this past week. In contrast, the rest of today is going to be quite busy. I'm sure you realize that everyone on board the _Enterprise_ is in shock. It's going to take time to process this change. Meanwhile, what everyone needs is something to do.

"So let me give you a timetable. The panel of observers will be boarding within the hour. I want a senior officers' briefing at 1500, followed by a captain's inspection of the ship at 1600. Reception for inaugurating the new captain is at 1900. Can we do it? If you think it's too tight, I'll forego the inspection. I only want a chance to greet each crewman." He looked around the circle to see them stand taller.

"Aye, Cap'n, we c'n handle it."

Scotty's opinion was echoed by the others. Spock merely nodded.

"All right, then. Let's get to it." As they began to leave, Kirk added, "Spock, a word with you, please." He waited a moment til they were more or less alone, except for Chuck. "Two things. Get me Captain Young's service record, if you would. And have someone pack my things and prepare my cabin for its new occupant. I'm not going to have time." Kirk swallowed his grief and tried to give Spock as neutral an expression as possible.

A slight hesitation was all the emotional response Spock permitted himself. "Yes, Captain. Anything else?"

"That's it for now. We'll be along shortly." Spock nodded acknowledgment and departed. "Well, Chuck, do we need to go pack your things, or were you briefed about this ahead of time?"

"I've known since 1100 this morning. Just barely enough time to put my house in order. My things are packed, but still in my quarters. It wasn't for certain this was going to happen. They said you might back down. I knew you wouldn't, but I've learned not to argue with a Commodore."

Kirk laughed. "Some days I wish I'd learned that too. And I have learned which things are worth arguing about. I guess I've never learned to be intimidated by rank."

"I don't think there's anything that intimidates you. Which reminds me, there's something I need to tell you."

They were alone in the turbolift.

"I'm listening."

"I used to be in a different department entirely. I was one of those that did the psych profiles on recruits. Occasionally they'd ask us to work up a report on a criminal case. So after five years, when I was bored, I switched to Security, and that's how I got here. Occasionally I get to work up a profile on somebody, but mostly I make notes for my own amusement. My guys got hold of my notes one day about three years ago, and I thought there'd be serious trouble. But they just made a joke out of it, so now my nick-name is "Beady-eyed-Byrd."

Kirk laughed, because having been a victim, he recognized how well the name fit. He wasn't quite sure where Chuck was going with this, so he made no comment.

"You made an absolutely fascinating character study, so I made extensive notes." He paused as they reached Chuck's quarters and stepped inside. "Jim, I don't know how to tell you this."

"Brutal honesty usually works. Chuck, I'm not fragile."

"You certainly aren't. It's not you I'm worried about. It's what you will think of me."

"I don't think so. You're too much like me. You're most bothered by what you think of yourself. But I don't have time to bandy words with you this afternoon. Either you're going to tell me what's bothering you, or you're not."

"You're right. My apologies. I'll make this short. Late last night, they asked me to write a report on you - not just everything you said and did, but my opinion of you as a person - your personality, your character, as complete a profile as I could manage without having given you any of the formal tests. And they knew they were asking for an expert opinion. So I gave it to them - brutal honesty, as you said." He chuckled nervously and went on.

"This morning, I get in there and find out they've twisted everything I said to fit their preconceived notions. For instance, every time you act as if you don't care and it doesn't bother you, to them, that's another sign that you're completely uncontrollable, and therefore dangerous."

Kirk didn't quite grin, but his response was just short of mockingly flippant. "Well, they're right."

Chuck was not amused. "Jim! I wish you wouldn't say things like that. You're just digging the hole deeper. I have to report everything!" He tried to pace in the small space available, but ended up taking just two steps before turning and facing Kirk. "When they assigned me to this panel - and by the way, this was not a volunteer mission - they told me it was because of my ability to observe the subtle nuances, and interpret what I see. I'm wearing a microphone hooked up to a recorder. I even have to report your reaction to this conversation."

He flopped down on the bed and rubbed a hand over his face before continuing. "If anyone else had just been told I was analyzing their every thought, action, and motive, they would begin to exhibit signs of nervous tension; they would attempt to change their behavior to what they thought I wanted to see; and eventually they would find a way to ask what I thought of them. You have done none of those things. Instead, you're calmly standing there trying to figure out what about this upsets me so much, and how you can help.

"Well, I don't know if there's anything you can do, but I'll tell you why I'm upset. I've never met anyone like you: someone who has more courage and inner strength of will than I do; someone who understands me, yet accepts me; someone who gives himself freely, over and over again; someone who feels things deeply, yet is in absolute control of himself." He stood up and took a step towards Kirk. "I want to know you like I've never wanted to know anyone in my life. And I hate it that this report is coming between us."

"How so?"

"I never tell anybody I'm analyzing, but I had to tell you. I couldn't stand the thought of deceiving you. Now that you know what I'm doing, you need to guard every word, every action, every thought. If it weren't for this report, I would want you to be as open and honest with me as I can stand."

Kirk reached out a hand to Chuck's chest and pushed him back on the bed. "You, Chuck, can stand a great deal, including what I'm about to say. I'm glad you told me about the report, so we could get it out in the open and talk about it. But that report is not going to affect how I relate to you, or anything I think, say, or do. I am an open book, and you are welcome to read and report anything you like. In fact, the more brutally honest your report, the better picture of reality they will have."

Purposely invading his space, Kirk sat down on the bed next to him. "That being the case, if that report comes between us, it will be because you put it there. I think you tend to keep people at a distance by raising your shield of observer status, so no one can get near enough to know you. If you would know me, you will have to let me know you. Your willingness to share this concern is a good beginning." He stood and offered Chuck a hand. "However, in all honesty, I do not expect to have much time today to interact with you. So let me challenge you to get to know my friends. I think you will find them equally ready to know you."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

On returning to the _Enterprise_, Kirk headed first to the bridge. Ascertaining that all was proceeding on schedule, he discovered that Eric and Carl were still in Sickbay. He left Spock in charge and hurried to Sickbay. McCoy was in his office.

"Jim! I know you want to see Eric. I've just come from his room. Carl's with him. He's conscious, but very weak. No one has yet told him what's been going on, and I wouldn't advise it. He's not strong enough yet. He hasn't even been told that someone poisoned him on purpose. Carl, of course, knows everything."

"Thanks, Bones. I'll be careful."

Kirk and Chuck entered Eric's room quietly.

"Hello, Carl, Eric. I came as soon as I could. This is Chuck, a friend of mine. Eric, I hear you've been pretty sick."

"Yes, sir."

"Dr. McCoy says you're improving, and you'll be back on your feet in no time. Would it be all right if I pray for you?"

"Please do, sir."

"Lord, we know that You are the Master Healer. So I ask You right now to return health to Eric's body. Cast off the ravages of this attack and bring strength and wholeness. Lord, I also pray for Your supernatural peace to flood his soul, that he might be at rest. Thank You, Lord, for Carl and his willingness to minister to Eric's needs. Bring peace to his soul as well."

While Kirk prayed, Eric fell asleep, so Kirk motioned Carl into the next room.

"My apologies, Carl, for the circumstances which necessitated your confinement. You're free to go now. If you'd rather stay with Eric, Dr. McCoy can probably get you posted to the sick list for one more day." He went on without asking for a response.

"I understand you're fully aware of the events of the past several days. Eric will have to be told eventually. I would tell him myself, but Dr. McCoy says he's not strong enough yet, and I will be departing the ship tonight." He tried to bury the emotions that thought brought on. "There are only two people on board with sufficient knowledge to handle the job. It will not be an easy task. Would you like me to ask Mr. Spock to talk with Eric?"

"No, sir. I'll do it. But, sir, may I speak freely?" Carl was clearly agitated.

"Of course." Getting it off his chest had to help, Kirk decided.

"Captain, this shouldn't be happening. I would have told them the truth!" His face silently begged to be believed.

Kirk tried to reassure. "I know you would, Carl, and so would Eric, without any regard for the consequences to yourselves, and I appreciate that, I really do. The thing you need to remember is that even if I had let you testify, it wouldn't have changed the outcome of the trial. The issue was never about you and Eric; it's about Christianity aboard the _Enterprise_. We need to show them the love of Jesus. Can you do it?"

Carl swallowed and nodded. "I'll try, sir."

"Good. And don't let a root of bitterness creep into your soul. The Lord has a plan for all of this, and we don't need to know what it is in order to cooperate with Him. One last question: do you believe that what's happening to me is _not_ your fault?"

Carl looked into Kirk's eyes for a long moment, visibly relaxing. "Yes, sir, I understand that."

"I'm counting on you to communicate that understanding to Eric."

xxxx

When Kirk arrived at the briefing, the room was already crowded. In addition to his officers, Sullivan and the lady prosecutor were there. He couldn't remember her name, Lila something, he thought. To his surprise, he found that he resented their presence. He had wanted a few minutes alone with his friends. He had known Chuck would be there, but that was somehow different. And if he was feeling resentment, how much worse it must be for his people. The task he was about to ask of them was virtually impossible, but then, that was nothing new for this crew.

"Since you were all present at the trial, I don't need to introduce our guests. Sir, are you expecting the other two panel members as well?"

"No, Captain. You may proceed."

"Thank you, sir. With your permission, I shall ignore your presence for the remainder of this briefing. If you have questions, I'll be happy to address them when we are finished."

"Understood, Captain."

"I am grateful for the opportunity to speak with you all once more. There is much I could say about how proud I am of all of you, how much I've enjoyed working with you these many years, how privileged I feel to call you my friends. Indeed, you have been like a family to me, and the _Enterprise_, my home. I shall miss each of you."

He paused to get his emotions under control, then went on briskly. "However, lest this degenerate into a mutual sympathy party, there are certain things we need to discuss. First of all, are there any problems I need to address concerning our plans for the rest of the day?" No one spoke. "I'll take silence as a 'no'." He took a deep breath and went on.

"The heart of what I want to discuss with you is the task before you. For the next three to twelve months, your every move will be watched, not only on duty, but off-duty as well. Your task is to ignore the observers, to behave exactly as you would if they were not there; and yet, when time permits, to freely answer any and all questions. Also, you must guard your attitude. It will be easy to resent the observers' presence, since they will undoubtedly be a distraction and disruption to your work, and an intrusion on your privacy. You will need to remember the reason they are here is to see Christianity in action, and that means the real thing, not some show we put on for their benefit. And as always, you will need to model this for the rest of the crew, who will be looking to you for direction.

"All of this would be difficult but eminently doable, except for one thing: I won't be here. We have worked together in crisis after crisis for so many years, that now we function, not as individuals, but rather as a single organism with seven parts. That organism is about to undergo a head transplant, and there'll be no anesthesia. Everyone on board this ship is going to be in a fair amount of pain for some time. And people exhibit that pain in different ways. Just remember while you're making allowances for everyone around you, make allowances for yourself as well." Kirk looked around the table and saw understanding nods.

"Even more critical than dealing with pain, however, is the fact that there are no chemicals to prevent the body from rejecting the new head as a foreign substance. You will have to fight that instinct with all of your strength. It is vitally important for the safety of the _Enterprise_ that you bond with her new captain as soon as possible. Make friends with him. Open your hearts to him. Get to know him, so that you can trust him.

"You may be thinking you can function without a head, or even in spite of him; and for a short time, you can; you've done it many times. But for long-term health, the body needs a head. Or you may be thinking suicide - to disband the group because the body can't function without me at its head. Nevertheless, I'm asking you to try. If after twelve months, it's not working, then go, with my blessing. Lastly, you may be thinking the task is impossible. And you're right, it is; but once more, I'm asking the impossible of you, aware that you will not succeed unless the Lord intervenes on our behalf.

"Any questions?"

There was a moment of silence, which McCoy jumped into.

"Let me get this straight. You're going off to some border outpost to get yourself killed, and you want us to hold the fort on the off chance that you'll come back. And while we're holding the fort, we're supposed to graciously put up with this panel of observers. But even that's not enough for you. We're supposed to create the same level of unity and trust with this new captain as we have with you."

"Doctor," interrupted Chekov. "You make it sound as though the Keptin personally engineered this entire situation just to annoy you. That's hardly fair!"

"Nothing about this is fair! Before this is over, we'll all be tempted to blame Jim for the whole thing. After all, if it weren't for this challenge he's thrown down, we could all go crawl in a hole, and at least be miserable in private. And yes, I'm angry. I'm trying to be angry. That way, maybe I can avoid crying, at least until after he's gone."

At this point Sulu broke in. "Captain, a year is not such a long time to wait for you. Why do you want us to bond with the new captain?"

"Don't count on my return. I'm sure Spock can quote you the odds, but they are extremely small. And even if I survive, I may well not be given command of the _Enterprise_ again."

"Ye need ta be rememberin', he'll be a sittin' duck at that outpost. How long d' ye think it'll take the Klingons ta find out he's there?" Scotty asked.

"About two weeks; at most two months," Uhura volunteered. "Captain, I think I understand what you want and why. You want us to transfer our loyalty to Captain Young, so as to make us less vulnerable to attack, us and the _Enterprise_ as a whole." She swallowed to get her voice under control. "I will try to do as you ask, Captain."

"Beggin' th' Cap'n's pardon, but it took us years ta get ta th' trust level we're at. How c'n ye expect us ta accomplish th' same thing in months?"

"Pray for a miracle, keep trying, and refuse to give up."

The rest echoed Uhura's promise to try. Only Spock did not respond. As Kirk gazed at him, the room fell silent.

_I know, my friend, that what I'm asking is most difficult for you_, thought Kirk.

"I will extend my loyalty to Captain Young, and if he permits it, I will be a friend to him. But do not expect these actions to decrease my loyalty to you. This I cannot, and will not, do. And in my estimation, the rest of those gathered here will not do so either, including Dr. McCoy, in spite of his attempt to make you think he could."

"I understand, and I'm sorry. It would make the coming days easier if you could. I think Bones has a good idea: blame the whole thing on me. That way, it becomes emotionally acceptable to give your loyalty to another."

"Jim," McCoy protested, "You know better than that. You're just not thinking straight - not that I am either. If we harbor anger against you, or anyone for that matter, we're opening the door to let bitterness in, and then we'll have worse problems."

"Keptin," Chekov brought up a new point. "Vould it be acceptable to discuss vhat kind of person Keptin Young is? I can think of several people I could not be loyal to because of who they are."

"Certainly. Mr. Spock, what have you got?"

"Captain Young's service record is adequate, but not outstanding. In his earlier years, he was twice overlooked for promotion due to an inability to control his emotions. Also, though it was never a formal charge, there is some hint that he may have been guilty of cowardice in the field. His personality profile indicates that he is a loner; he has received critical reviews for not being a team player. Also he has recently been vocally cynical about any and all religions. He has spent the last two months being groomed for this position. Prior to this posting, he held the rank of Lieutenant Commander."

Kirk was speechless, his mouth hanging open in shock.

Uhura spoke into the gap. "Spock, he looks Andorian, except for the skin. Is he of mixed parentage?"

"Yes. His father was Andorian; his mother was Morenan."

There was a collective gasp as everyone took in what that might mean. Meanwhile Kirk had found his voice.

"Spock, I didn't get any of that on my first encounter with him. Are my perceptions really that dead?"

"Apparently, one of his assets is the ability to make a good first impression."

"He has other assets?"

"An ability to get along well with members of the female gender." McCoy snorted, Uhura shuddered, and Sulu snickered. "His chief claim to fame appears to be an encounter with a mutinous group of females, in which he was able to subdue them with his pheromones. I gather that his use of pheromones is entirely voluntary, and not part of his autonomic nervous system."

"Thank God for small favors," muttered Uhura.

"He'll need that first impression asset tonight," put in Sulu. "With a record like that, how can he hope to command a starship?"

"What c'n Starfleet be thinkin'? He'll destroy th' ship in th' first red alert crisis," was Scott's opinion.

"At any rate," Kirk summarized, "what was virtually impossible has just become definitely impossible. Forget everything I said; your first priority is survival. Do whatever you have to do for the safety of the crew, and never mind loyalty, unity, or trust issues." Kirk paused and looked up at Spock. "You knew all this when you agreed to be his friend. Why?"

"The idea is sound, even if its implementation is exceedingly difficult."

"Then you don't think it's impossible?"

"With God, all things are possible."

"Yes, but, ... Are you telling me you _want_ to?"

"Not in the sense you mean, no. But I choose to, because it is what the Lord would have me do."

Kirk looked down, speaking softly. "I am humbled. I don't know that I could do that." But Spock's next words brought his head up.

"Your path is no less difficult." He spoke equally quietly, as if they were alone.

Kirk acknowledged it with a slight nod. "Maybe; but that reminds me." He glanced around the table at all of them. "No matter what you may hear of me, you are not to mount any rescue attempts. Unless Starfleet orders it, no rescue. Is that understood?"

Various reluctant affirmations.

"One last thing: I'm not holding any of you to your commitment. You've heard what Spock intends to do. Whether you follow his lead or choose to abandon ship at the earliest opportunity is entirely between you and God. We're out of time for any further discussion. I'll see you all on the hangar deck at 1900. Dismissed."

The room emptied quickly. Spock and the observers lingered.

Kirk remained seated. "Yes, Spock."

"If I might have a word with you in your quarters at 1800. You will need to put on a dress uniform in any event."

"Of course, Spock. I'll see you then."

Spock departed and Sullivan approached Kirk.

"Remarkable, Captain. You are full of surprises."

"Any questions, sir?"

"None at this time. I understand Ship's inspection is next. I will leave you with Lt. Cmdr. Byrd."

xxxx

Kirk spent most of the next two hours touring the ship, taking time to speak briefly with each crewman. If Spock had been with him, he would have known whether he missed anyone. As it was, he was only fairly certain. Chuck was silent for most of the tour. The visit with Twenty-nine was an exception.

Kirk explained to Chuck that Twenty-nine was an ambassador from another galaxy, whose people the _Enterprise_ had encountered the previous year; that it was through that encounter that Kirk had become a Christian. He warned Chuck about the light gravity and the wild colors emanating from Twenty-nine's huge snake-arm body. But no verbal warning could be sufficient, and Chuck was shocked. Even alarmed, when several of the snake-arms began approaching them.

"Hello, Twenty-nine. I don't have time for a lengthy visit, so can you plug in and download the events of the past week? That would be faster than my telling you. Or is Sixty-five the only one that can do that?"

"No, I can do that. Who is the person with you?"

"His name is Chuck. He's supposed to be observing all my communications today, but I haven't told him what it takes to communicate with you." During this conversation, Twenty-nine wrapped four arms around Kirk, planted them on his head, and downloaded the previous week. "Chuck, I don't have time to tell you how to do this. You'll just have to take my word for it. If you want to come back later with Spock, he can help you talk to Twenty-nine."

Chuck acquired a stubborn look. "It doesn't appear to me that you are doing anything. So why can't Twenty-nine talk to me too?" His body language said, _anything you can do, I can do also_. Kirk had suspected this would be Chuck's reaction.

"Okay, it will be faster to show you than argue with you. Twenty-nine, as a favor to me, will you connect with Chuck? No more than five seconds and only two arms; I don't want him to pass out."

As Kirk watched, Twenty-nine began to encircle Chuck. His body was rigid; his eyes stared into Kirk's.

*Twenty-nine, he's terrified. Can you still do it?*

*Not a problem. Remember, fear is a thing of the past.*

Twenty-nine connected with Chuck. His eyes widened and his mouth opened in a silent scream.

*You have great courage, Chuck. All Jim's friends do.*

That was all there was time for. Twenty-nine retreated, leaving Chuck gasping and holding his head. Kirk finished his conversation with Twenty-nine.

"The download will give you the details, but I am leaving the ship, so this is a final goodbye. May God's blessing be upon you and your people, now and always. Give my greetings to the others when you return home. I have other goodbyes yet before I go tonight, so I will leave you now."

"Goodbye, James Kirk. God go with you!"

They left Twenty-nine's room and Kirk asked Chuck if he was all right.

"No, but I will be. Just give me a minute to settle my stomach and clear my head, while you say, 'I told you so.'"

"I wouldn't dream of stating the obvious. There's a rather lengthy story behind Twenty-nine's presence on this ship. I encourage you to get the details from somebody."


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

When the inspection tour was over, they returned to Kirk's quarters. Kirk would rather have avoided the place altogether. The room that had been the only home he had for the past twenty years held many memories. But as usual, Spock was right; he did need to change. Entering his cabin, he was caught by surprise. All of his personal belongings were already packed. With walls and shelves bare, the place didn't seem his at all. Spock looked up from his work at the bed.

"Captain, there are a few items that do not lend themselves to being packed." He gestured at several items laid out on the bed.

Kirk took in the scene at a glance. "Spock, have you _personally_ packed my things?"

"Yes, Captain. There was no one to whom I could have delegated the task without causing distress."

"And you were not distressed?"

Spock did not bother to deny it. "I wished to perform the task myself. If you could give me some direction concerning these items..."

There was the genuine Persian rug he had obtained on Rigel IV. How it had gotten there, no one knew, and Kirk had had quite a time getting it aboard. He smiled at the memory. Then there was the hand-carved wooden bookcase, inherited from his mother's family. The books themselves, which he had collected from all over, were packed in a crate by themselves. The only other family heirloom was the sword. Passed down through the generations on his father's side, it had quite a bloody history. The ancient hunter's horn was almost as long as the sword. Right now he couldn't remember where he'd gotten the horn. The other items were the delicate glass sculpture he'd gotten from the Hamalki, and the 3-D chess set Spock had made for him last year. The one they had used before had gotten broken during one of their brushes with the Klingons. This one was virtually indestructible, but also not portable.

So many memories - but after all, possessions were just things; he still had the memories, even if he couldn't take the things. Flinging off his melancholy mood, Kirk made his decisions quickly.

"This is a good time to bequeath my possessions. There's no point in delaying. Give the rug to Bones, the sword to Sulu, the horn to Scotty. I think the bookcase should go to Chekov; give him the books too. They'll be safer here than where I'm going. Uhura gets the glass sculpture. Spock, you keep the chess set. Maybe you'll find someone to play with."

"Unlikely, Captain. Nevertheless, I will keep it. Perhaps, you will return."

"Possibly." But neither of them believed it, and that fact hung in the silence.

"Captain. Jim, the matter I wish to discuss with you is extremely personal. Perhaps you wish to ask our guest to step outside for a few minutes."

"For my sake or yours?"

"For yours. I have no objection to his presence."

"Then he stays - complete transparency - no secrets. I know you, and you know me, but Chuck needs to know us. I know what's coming is something I don't want to face, or you wouldn't have suggested I ask Chuck to leave. So, out with it."

"Very well. Jim, I sense in you an emotion that greatly disturbs me, because I have never encountered it in you before. It is unlikely that anyone else knows of it, and I am not even certain that you are aware of it. It lies beneath the grief, which we are all dealing with." He paused, and Kirk just waited. "That emotion is fear. Not that you have never experienced fear before. You have, many times. But not this kind of fear. I sense it's a pervading presence, a nameless anxiety, that could take over your behavior without your even being aware of it."

"It's an anxiety all right, but it's not nameless. I know exactly what it is, and when it began. And it's _not_ going to control me. I just haven't figured out how to get rid of it."

"If I may ask, what is it that you fear, and how can I help you?"

It took a moment before Kirk could force himself to give it voice. "It is a fear of being completely and utterly alone. And I don't know that there's anything you can do."

Spock, too, paused before suggesting a solution. "There is a Vulcan technique whereby you could be aware of my presence even over long distances."

"Yes, but that's a two-way street. What happens to you when I die? If I go slow, you'd have some warning, but not if it's quick."

"I would alert Dr. McCoy to the danger. Certain precautions could be taken."

"No, Spock, much as I'm strongly tempted, I can't permit it. It's not safe, and you know it. Avoidance is not the solution to this problem. The answer has to be in Scripture somewhere. I just haven't had time to look for it. Which reminds me, I need to get my files off this computer."

"I took the liberty of preparing this terminal for Captain Young. The disk containing your personally annotated Bible is the first one in the box. However, I have not opened your safe."

"Chuck, if you'll turn your beady eyes on something besides me, this won't take long." Kirk opened the safe and divided its contents into personal and Starfleet items. The latter he would give to Captain Young. All but one of the personal items he added to the top of the bag Spock had finished packing.

The last item he gave to Spock. "This is my will, updated two months ago. Even without that link you were talking about, you'll know when to open this."

He paused, and the silence lengthened before he could go on. "Spock, I hate saying goodbye, but better here than in the transporter room. I can't tell you how much our friendship has meant to me. Thank you for being my friend, for letting me be yours."

"I too do not have words to express what your friendship has meant to me."

Spock and Kirk looked into each other's eyes. Chuck felt the unspoken communication. Then Kirk lifted his hand in the Vulcan greeting. Spock returned the salute, then deliberately grasped Kirk's hand and arm in a forearm handshake. As Kirk realized what Spock was doing, tears streamed down his face. Overwhelmed by Kirk's emotion on top of his own, Spock cried too. Neither of them tried to hide it.

Then as if by mutual consent, they put the moment behind them, briskly giving their attention to the tasks at hand. So it was that the Captain's quarters were clean and ready for their new occupant. Kirk's packed bag was in the transporter room. The things he was leaving behind were temporarily stored in Spock's quarters. And they were decked out in dress uniforms and waiting in the transporter room for Captain Young to arrive. All of this was in place ten minutes early.

Just as Kirk began to wonder if he should have asked his senior officers to join him in the transporter room, they began to arrive. With them came Sullivan and Lila what's-her-name. Kirk had forgotten to ask Chuck her last name. The transporter room began to feel crowded when an honor guard arrived and lined both walls.

At precisely 1900, Scotty beamed Captain Young aboard as the recorded pipe music emanated from wall speakers. Young stepped off the transporter platform, returned their salute and stepped forward to shake Kirk's hand with a warm smile on his face. Again Kirk was struck by the incongruity between his appearance and his service record. His instinct was to like this man. Then he wondered if Young was exuding some chemical that produced that response in him.

Putting those thoughts aside, he introduced his officers, dismissed the honor guard, and was about to escort Young to the hangar deck, when Scotty interrupted with a question.

"Beggin' th' Cap'n's pardon, but should I be beamin' aboard th' Cap'n's personal belongin's now or later?"

"Now would be fine, Scotty." Kirk glanced at Young for agreement.

"Yes, now, please. They are waiting."

Kirk thought that an odd response until he saw what materialized on the platform. In addition to numerous containers of various sizes, there were two young Morenan females. Taken aback, Kirk glanced at Spock. One look told him Spock had not known about this. While not strictly forbidden, the presence of family members on board a starship was unofficially frowned upon. Kirk did not know of any starship captain that maintained a wife on board. But then, he didn't know of any Morenan captains either.

Aware of the awkward silence that had settled over the group, Kirk cleared his throat. "These are your 'personal belongings'?"

"Yes. Allow me to introduce my wives: This is Gisa, and this is Nona." As he introduced the officers by name, the girls stepped forward, making eye contact with each of them. Kirk could see that they were truly lovely, but he felt none of the lust rise up in him that he would have expected if Morenan females had turned on their pheromones. And Uhura seemed calm, not angry. So apparently, it truly was a voluntary and controllable phenomenon.

"Captain, do you desire to have your wives accompany you to the reception, or go directly to your quarters? And I must apologize that we do not have adequate quarters prepared for you. The cabin I occupied will hardly be suitable for three."

"No apology necessary, Captain. I understand. They should come to the reception. We can settle the matter of quarters later."

xxxx

The Morenan women made quite a stir on the hangar deck. But such was the crew's respect for Captain Kirk that they quickly became silent when he stepped up to the podium.

"Friends, I remember a similar occasion some twenty years ago, when I took command of the _Enterprise_. A few of you were there. I was so tongue-tied I could hardly speak. Two sentences was almost more than I could manage. Well, I'm not going to be quite that brief tonight, but I trust I won't get long-winded either.

"On that occasion, a good man was stepping down, and his officers and crew were very loyal. They grieved his departure, and were not at all sure they wanted an upstart, hot-shot kid running the ship. But, they gave me a chance.

"Today the _Enterprise_ is the finest ship in the Fleet. A posting aboard her is the envy of every Academy graduate. Why? Because she sees more new phenomena, gets into and out of more trouble than any other two ships combined. There's more opportunity for advancement, and the casualty rate is lower than on any other ship.

"My friends, _you_ are what makes the _Enterprise_ great. A captain is only as good as the crew he commands. It has been my great privilege over these years to command the finest crew in the Fleet. Tonight I must turn that privilege over to another. He will do things differently, but that does not make them wrong. And a different captain does not make you any less the finest crew in the Fleet.

"One thing I ask of you, and that is to do for him what the crew of the _Enterprise_ did for me twenty years ago: give him a chance. He is neither as young as I was then, or as old as I am now, but every new captain needs this from those he commands. So for his sake, for your sake, for the _Enterprise_ herself, I ask it. Give him a chance.

"Now it is my privilege to introduce to you, Joshua Young, Captain of the _USS Enterprise_." He stepped back, and gestured Young to come forward, as the crew applauded. The applause was not wholehearted, however. No one felt like rejoicing. Young stepped up to the podium.

"Thank you. I'm not sure if that applause was for the Captain's speech, or for my promotion. I think we should applaud the man, Captain James T. Kirk."

Instantly the crowd was on its feet, the applause deafening. Kirk was uncomfortable, but tried to be gracious. Young let it go on considerably longer than Kirk would have. Finally when Kirk didn't think he could stand much more, Young cut it off. But it was obvious the crew would have kept it up longer if Young had encouraged them. Kirk was grateful to sit down.

"That's much better. I knew you had it in you. I'm not going to ask you to applaud my promotion. Nor am I going to give you a stirring speech. I couldn't top Captain Kirk's, and I won't try. I will say this: that I too count it a privilege to command such a fine crew as this. In the days to come, I hope to be worthy of the honor.

"Now, I wish to dispel rumors before they begin. The two women I brought with me are neither for sale nor for rent. They are my wives, Gisa and Nona. I trust you will accord them the same courtesy and respect that you would any guest aboard the ship.

"That's all I have to say at this time. Please stay and enjoy the refreshments, and give me an opportunity to greet you individually. Thank you."

Kirk watched Young move through the crowd with practiced ease, spreading his handshake and warm smile to as many as he could reach. What's more, his wives were doing the same thing, minus the handshake, each weaving a separate path through the crowd. Their skill at this aspect of diplomacy struck another incongruous note. Kirk was becoming more and more puzzled by that service record.

"Here. Eat this." Bones thrust a plate of food under his nose.

"I'm not hungry, Bones, but thanks."

"When was the last time you ate?"

"1100 this morning."

"I thought so. That's more than eight hours ago, and the night's not over yet. So eat; doctor's orders." Kirk started to protest again, but McCoy cut him off. "As long as you're still on this ship, you're under my orders, Captain or not." McCoy glared at him, daring him to contradict him. Kirk decided it wasn't worth arguing, so he began to eat, discovering as he continued that he was indeed hungry. "Thanks, Bones." He handed back an empty plate.

"That was easier than I expected. Maybe I should have put more on it."

"No, this was just fine, thanks."

Kirk watched Spock speak to each of the wives, no doubt trying to settle the question of quarters. Kirk decided to stay out of it. Spock didn't need him, and Young probably would prefer to handle it personally.

"Well, they've obviously done this before," observed McCoy.

"That's what I thought too. Makes that service record a puzzle. Well, you and Spock can figure it out. I have every confidence. What have you got medically on a cross between Andorian and Morenan?" He'd had several contacts with Andorians over the years, but none with Morenans. Beyond the gossip about their lusty sexual practices, the only fact he could recall was a bit of irrelevant history. Their culture had been contaminated by an early Earth colony, resulting in the widespread use of Terran names.

"Not much. I hope he's bringing records with him. Like Spock, he's another one-of-a-kind. And he probably won't be any happier to let me probe than Spock was. And emotionally, watch out - the Morenan may have the upper hand at the moment, but I'm betting we'll see that Andorian temper sooner or later. Another puzzle: It's an accepted medical fact that neither Morenans nor Andorians make good starship captains. What makes them think that a cross between the two will be a success?"

"I don't know, Bones, but so far, I like what I see in spite of that service record. I wish I could ask you to keep me posted, but I doubt you'll be able to."

"If there's a way, Spock will find it."

"Indeed. Do me a favor. Young's almost finished here. Next stop is the Bridge, and that'll take us half an hour. After that, the sooner I'm off this ship, the better. Can you round up Uhura, Sulu, and Chekov, and meet us in the transporter room?"

"Sure, Jim."

"Thanks." He shut out the crowd and took a deep breath. "Bones, I hate saying goodbye, but I want you to know that you're one of the best friends I've ever had. Thank you for always being there, and never being afraid to tell me what you think."

"The feeling's mutual, Jim. You've put up with an awful lot from me over the years. I've always hoped that you got your money's worth out of the exchange." He squeezed Kirk's shoulder. "It's been a privilege to be your friend, Jim. I'll never forget you." Bones choked up, but didn't turn away.

"Nor I, you. I have to go now. See you in the transporter room."

Spock and Scotty accompanied Kirk and Young to the Bridge. Dismissing the two crewmen on duty, they set about the lengthy task of informing the computer of the change in captains. All the security codes had to be changed. The most delicate was that of the self-destruct sequence, and they saved that for last. Kirk thought Spock was working extra slowly, but he decided it must be his imagination, and his eagerness to be finished. Finally, it was done. Kirk handed over the Captain's data tapes from his safe, and prepared to depart.

"Captain, if you have no further need of me, I will take my leave. And again, may I congratulate you on your posting."

"Captain, you're not leaving the ship tonight, are you? I was hoping you would give me a tour of the ship in the morning."

"Mr. Spock is well able to fulfill that duty. It is my experience that the sooner a departing captain leaves the ship, the better. So if you will permit me to say goodbye, I am headed directly to the transporter room from here."

"Certainly, Captain Kirk. Mr. Spock, you and Mr. Scott are free to accompany him. Send those two crewmen back up here, if you would, though."

"Captain," Kirk noted the mild tone of reproof in Spock's voice, but had no idea whether Young picked it up. "Regulations do not permit the Bridge to be manned by only one person, even if that one is the Captain. With your permission, I will call the crewmen up here, and then we will depart."

"Of course, how silly of me!"

While they waited, Spock discussed cabin arrangements with Young. They decided to convert Kirk's quarters into an office, and take over a three-room VIP suite across the corridor from Kirk's cabin. That would give his wives plenty of room, and would allow him to separate personal from ship's affairs. Kirk took the opportunity to say his last goodbyes to Scotty. Three more to go. Kirk hoped it would get easier.

xxxx

It didn't. Sulu and Chekov he handled gracefully enough, but Uhura was close to tears and not trying to hide it. Kirk desperately wanted to get through the next few minutes without breaking down. Crying in front of Spock was one thing; this was different. Even when he told himself that he was being ridiculous, that didn't fix it.

He asked the Lord for help, wanting strength to keep himself under control. Instead, the Lord gave him the courage to endure being out of control. After all, there was no one there besides themselves. Well, there was Chuck, but Kirk hardly considered him a stranger. Was he afraid of Chuck's report? He didn't think so. When he concluded it was simply a pride issue, he was able to let go.

Tears streaming down his face, Kirk gave Uhura a big hug. Then Scotty enveloped him in a crushing bear hug. By this time, everybody but Spock was in tears. Bones, Chekov, and Sulu also wanted hugs. Then Spock approached.

"Spock, don't - I'm a mess!"

Spock's response was heard only in Kirk's mind.

*I know.*

He held Kirk tightly for several long moments. Kirk felt Spock taking his emotional pain and giving him strength in its place.

*Spock, why? You didn't need to do this.*

*I wanted to.*

Spock released him and looked into his eyes.

*Goodbye, Jim.*

*Goodbye, Spock.*

Kirk turned towards the transporter and noticed Chuck standing on the fringes. He smiled and shook Chuck's hand.

"Goodbye, my friend. Ask Spock about the word 'regret'."

"Goodbye, Jim. And thank you for showing me yourself."

"Know and be known."

Kirk stepped onto the transporter and was about to give the order to energize when the intercom whistled.

_"Bridge to Transporter Room. Is Captain Kirk still aboard?"_

"Aye, Lieutenant. He's just leavin' now."

_"We've received a communication for him, sir."_

Kirk reached the intercom in the blink of an eye.

"Patch it through, Lieutenant."

_"Yes, sir."_

It was Commodore Pierce. _"I regret to inform you your intended transport to Outpost #67 has encountered difficulties and is unavailable. Your orders are hereby changed. You are to remain aboard the _Enterprise_, which will deliver you to Outpost #67 at its earliest convenience."_

"But sir, that situation would be very bad for crew morale." He stammered to a halt. "I mean, to have the former captain remain on board..."

_"Can't be helped. No other ship is available. _Enterprise_ is being sent to that sector anyway. And I can't afford to leave that outpost unmanned. The officer you're replacing died last week. They need you now, not next month."_

"Yes, sir."

_"Pierce out."_

Kirk turned to face the others, dismay evident on his face.

"It looks like you're stuck with me for a while yet."

Nobody moved. Kirk cleared his throat.

"Party's over. I'm sure you all have work to do. It sounds like we'll be leaving shortly. I'm sure I'll see you all tomorrow. Good night."

And Kirk walked out of the transporter room without a backward glance. McCoy would have followed him, but Scotty held him back.

"Let him go, Doctor. We all need some recovery time, I'm thinkin'."

"Vhat shall I do vith his personal belongings?" Chekov asked.

"Leave them here for now," Spock ordered. "I shall arrange for them to be placed in suitable quarters."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Kirk spent the next two hours in the observation lounge wrestling with his soul. He was immediately aware when they left the starbase. He could both feel and hear the engines, as well as see the stars move. It felt strange and uncomfortable to be a passenger on his own ship. He continued to stare at the stars even when they went into warp, as though they could answer his unasked questions.

His principal question was how he was going to survive the next several days, and then have to say goodbye _again_. Maybe he could find a hole to crawl into. He was so emotionally exhausted that he couldn't even pray. The peace of the Lord seemed like a foreign concept. He had wanted some time alone to pull himself together, but it wasn't working. He was just digging himself deeper and deeper into depression.

It was in this state that McCoy found him about midnight. Taking one look at him, the doctor made an instant diagnosis. Talk could wait. What Jim needed was sleep.

"Are you planning to stare at that space warp all night? If so, you'd better pick up some anti-nausea pills."

"Bones, it's pretty late for house calls." Kirk resumed staring out the window.

"So it is, but since I'm here, I'm prescribing twelve hours uninterrupted sleep. Go to bed, Jim! You're exhausted."

"And where would you suggest I find a bed?"

McCoy faked irritation to keep some distance from Jim's despair. "You mean, Spock hasn't assigned you any quarters?"

"I haven't asked him, and he's been kind enough not to pester me."

"Well, I'm pestering. You've got two choices. Either go to bed, or I'll tranquilize you and take you to Sickbay."

Kirk turned to stare at him. "Don't tempt me."

McCoy was shocked. If there was one thing about Sickbay that Jim hated worse than physicals, it was tranquilizers.

Sighing, Kirk stood and walked over to the wall intercom. "Kirk to Spock."

_"Yes, Captain."_

"I have orders to find a bed. Any suggestions?"

_"Cabin D4 has been prepared for your use. Is there anything else you require?"_

Kirk sighed. "No, Spock. Thanks. Kirk out."

He turned and looked bleakly at McCoy. "He's hurting pretty badly. That super-Vulcan tone is a dead give-away."

"He knows that, and he doesn't care, any more than you care what's written all over your face."

"We're all hurting, and the sooner I get off this ship, the better for all concerned. Well, good night, Bones, and thanks."

McCoy watched Kirk's retreating back, and shook his head.

_ Lord,_ he prayed, _So much pain! How could this be right? Why wouldn't Jim fight this? He's never been afraid to buck the system when it's wrong._

_ Why do you think it's wrong? Pierce did exactly what I wanted him to, thanks to Jim Kirk's prayers._

_ What! You're doing this to him on purpose?! And he knows it?_

_ He knows none of the details, but he trusts Me. Will you do as well?_

_ I'll try, Lord._

xxxx

Chuck left the transporter room and returned to his quarters to write his report. It had been an instantaneous decision not to follow Kirk. Enough was enough. Besides he had plenty to fill a report with already.

Complete transparency, no secrets, Jim had said. All right, he would tell it exactly the way he saw it, and let the chips fall, etc.

His overriding impression of the whole day was that Jim Kirk thought first, always, and only of his crew and their needs. His own needs were at the bottom of his list of priorities, if they even made it to the list at all. Everything he did today was for them, including breaking down in the transporter room. He didn't do that because he couldn't control himself; he did it because they needed it, including Spock.

That was another thing he would have liked to study: Kirk's relationship with Spock. He hadn't entirely understood that mind link thing, or how Spock could know of Kirk's fear. Neither objected to his presence, nor tried to hide anything from him. A very unusual pair.

xxxx

The observers' panel met for breakfast at 0600 in a private conference room. This was to become their pattern for the duration of the mission. Each gave an oral report, summarizing their written report - except Gliff, who wasn't used to writing reports. Then Sullivan handed out assignments for the day. Chuck got Spock; Lila got Young; Gliff, Uhura; and Sam, Harb Tanzer. Sullivan had some closing remarks.

"Use wisdom and discretion. You don't have to stay glued to your victim all day and half the night. Observe them in different surroundings if you can. On the other hand, if something significant is going on, don't ignore it just because you've already put in your hours. I want to know what you think of their character, not just a verbatim account of everything they said. If they'll talk to you, listen. If they're working, stay out of the way. They have to put up with us, but it'll be a long three months, if we get them mad at us the first day. That's all. Dismissed."

Chuck was impressed. He hadn't thought Sullivan had that much common sense. Returning to his quarters, he called Spock, who was already on the Bridge.

"Good morning, Spock. I've been assigned to observe you today. Can you give me some idea of your scheduled activities so I can plan my day accordingly?"

"Certainly. I will be giving Captain Young a tour of the ship at 0900. He has scheduled an officers' meeting for 1300. There are several people I need to meet with for whom no specific time has been set."

"Who are they, if I may ask?"

"Captain Young, Dr. McCoy, Mr. Tanzer, Mr. Sullivan, and four people in the Science department whom you do not know."

"Captain Kirk is not on your list?"

"Captain Kirk does not like nursemaids. Dr. McCoy is the only one who gets away with it. I will find out from him how the Captain is doing, and I won't even have to ask. He will pretend to be annoyed that I don't care. It is an old game that we play often."

"I'll enjoy that. And I'll skip the ship's tour, but I'd like to get in on as much of the rest of it as I can, so with your permission, I'll be up to see you shortly."

"Of course, Mr. Byrd."

"Call me Chuck."

"As you wish. Spock out."

xxxx

Chuck spent about an hour and a half on the Bridge that morning, and was fascinated at the interplay among the crew. When he asked Spock for a summary of his duties as First Officer, Uhura interrupted.

"Oh, don't get him started. Spock is a walking encyclopedia and regulations manual combined. He can lecture ad nauseum on any subject you care to name, as well as many you never heard of."

"I'll keep that in mind, thank you. A brief summary if you will then."

Spock's only response to Uhura's interruption was the barest hint of a twinkle in the eye. As Spock talked, Chuck was aware of the easy back-and-forth banter that spoke of long friendships between Uhura, Sulu, and Chekov. That banter ceased abruptly when Captain Young arrived. With him were Lila and Gliff.

"Good morning, Captain." Spock vacated the center seat and moved to his post at the science station.

"Good morning, Mr. Spock. I take it Captain Kirk didn't stand on ceremony much."

Spock came to attention. "No, sir, he did not. Are there changes you wish to make?" The tone of mild interest contradicted his rigid posture.

Young waved at him to relax as he stepped up to the center seat. "No, no, that's fine. Whatever you're comfortable with."

"My comfort is not relevant, sir. If there are procedures you wish to have instituted as regards Bridge etiquette, now would be an appropriate time for us to be so informed, sir."

Everyone waited to see what Young would do with this bit of Vulcan-ese. He regarded Spock in silence for a moment. Then in a perfect imitation, he drew himself erect and spoke quietly and precisely.

"There are no changes I wish to make at this time, thank you."

No one knew him well enough to know whether that was a joke or not, so no one dared to laugh. And of course, Spock had not been joking. Although, that hadn't been a reason to refrain from laughter for many years. But the moment passed, and Spock returned to his lecture, as if uninterrupted.

Gliff walked over to Uhura, who greeted him with an appropriate Civil Insult.**

"You're a sorry excuse for a Tellarite if I ever saw one! You look like something the cat dragged in!"

Chuck was startled, but Spock didn't miss a beat. Lila's mouth dropped open, but neither Sulu nor Chekov seemed to think anything was amiss.

Captain Young, however, did. "Commander Uhura! Is that any way to greet a fellow sentient being!?"

"It is, sir, when that fellow sentient being is a Tellarite. They have developed the Civil Insult into an art form. It is a mark of respect to address someone in such a manner. I make it a practice to respect other species' communications customs."

"Indeed, and how would you address me?"

"On Andor, you would not ask me that question. On Morena, I would not be permitted to address you at all, since you are married and I am not your wife. In Starfleet, I address you as Captain Young."

"I'm impressed. You're well-informed. Carry on."

Shortly thereafter, Uhura and Gliff left the Bridge, to conduct their language study in a sound-proof room. Chuck watched Captain Young decide not to say anything about the fact that she left without asking permission. Young clearly thought Kirk's casual approach to be a lack of discipline. But neither was he prepared to address the issue.

After the ship's tour, Spock met with two of his science people, having ascertained that Young did not require any reports for the briefing at 1300. Then they met McCoy for lunch. McCoy chatted about everything and nothing for the entire meal, his eye repeatedly focusing on the door when anyone entered. Spock appeared not to notice, giving one sentence replies to McCoy's questions. Finally, McCoy had had enough.

"Well, it looks like he's not going to show. I didn't expect him for breakfast, but no lunch either means he's sulking."

"To whom do you refer, Doctor?"

"You know frak well who I'm talking about!" McCoy had given up swearing a year ago, so this was a measure of his distress. "And don't give me that innocent look, or the raised eyebrow either!" McCoy rubbed a hand over his face. "Sorry, Spock. I'm just not in the mood for games. We didn't talk at all last night because he was so exhausted. I didn't pester him this morning, because I was hoping he'd sleep. But if he doesn't show for dinner either, I'm going to get on his case. Trouble is, I have no idea what to say."

"I am sure you will think of something. Thank you for keeping me informed." Spock rose to depart.

"You're welcome, but why don't you go see him yourself?"

"He will take a great deal more nursemaid behavior from you than he will from me. Good day, Doctor."

"I'm a doctor, not a nursemaid," McCoy muttered. Spock's ears heard him but did not respond.

The officers' meeting proved to be a surprise. Chuck expected Young to expound on what he expected of his officers. Clearly that expectation was prevalent in the group. Instead, Young made them talk while he listened. First he wanted to know what their understanding of their job descriptions included. Chuck was amused when Spock shared. What had taken him an hour and a half to discuss that morning was distilled into just three sentences. Chuck was impressed with Spock's ability to discern the level of detail requested.

What came next was even more astonishing, and made everyone very uncomfortable. Young wanted them to role play various situations, taking turns being Kirk. Dead silence greeted his request for a volunteer. Chuck did not think it was because they doubted their ability to act, nor did he think they were disturbed by the audience of observers. Rather their grief at losing Kirk was still a wide-open wound, and no one wanted to stir it up.

Spock tried to bridge the gap. "Captain, if you gave us the reasoning behind your request, the response might be more positive."

"Perhaps, but I shall not do so." Young folded his arms across his chest.

"If'n ye wish ta know how Cap'n Kirk handles things, why don' ye jest ask 'im?"

"That, Mr. Scott, does not suit my purpose either."

"Captain," McCoy burst out, "you can't expect these people to do such a thing. They're all suffering considerable emotional pain over this change, and to ask for this is just plain inhuman!"

Young placed his palms on the table, but refused to stand up, even though McCoy leaned over the table at him. "Sit down, Doctor. Your reputation for bigotry precedes you, but that does not make it acceptable."

"Bigotry!? You think I'm bigoted?!" McCoy sputtered and fumed, then looked to Spock for help. "You tell the man whether I'm bigoted." McCoy sat down.

"Captain, Dr. McCoy does tend to view the universe in human terms, and uses a number of colloquialisms from Terran history. However, I have never met a more compassionate person, and that compassion extends as freely to non-humans as to humans. As for myself, I have never encountered a bigoted attitude in Dr. McCoy."

"Really." His tone radiated disbelief. Obviously he didn't think Vulcans incapable of lying. "Your arguments with Dr. McCoy on the subject of logic are known throughout the Fleet."

"Our verbal sparring on that subject has long since become a game. And even in the beginning, it was never bigotry. I understood and valued his purpose, even while I did not permit myself to be annoyed with his tactics."

"And what was his purpose?" The question was still adversarial, but his tone held less accusation.

"To get me to accept and value my human half."

"I see. My apologies, Dr. McCoy." Young turned to the group. "However, 'inhuman' or not, I do expect you to do what I ask. I don't expect you to like it. I will make it an order if I must."

"That will not be necessary, Captain. I volunteer to play the role of Captain Kirk."

"Thank you, Mr. Spock, but I believe I shall ask Mr. Chekov to fill that role. Mr. Sulu, you are the Klingon commander. Dr. McCoy, you are Mr. Chekov; Mr. Scott, you be Mr. Sulu. Mr. Spock and Ms. Uhura will play yourselves. Please begin."

The next three hours felt like they were back at the Academy. Young had them replay each situation several times, switching the cast. Sulu was unquestionably the best imitator of Kirk's mannerisms and tone of voice. But Young was more interested in what they thought he would do, and why. Occasionally he quizzed them on someone else's responses, but mostly, this was an in-depth study of Kirk.

It was a grueling, non-stop, mental workout. At the end of three hours, they were all exhausted, except Spock, who still looked as fresh as he had that morning. Young finally called it quits.

"That's all for now. Thank you, people. You've been most helpful. Same time tomorrow. Dismissed."

He rose and left the room quickly, followed by Lila and Sullivan. Talk was quiet as the gathering dispersed. Some speculation on Young's purpose; mostly a wait-and-see attitude. Chuck was surprised not to hear any bitterness about having been forced to do this, even from McCoy. He overheard Uhura telling Gliff that it had not been as difficult as she expected it to be. McCoy asked Sam what he knew about all this.

"I don't know anything more than you do, possibly less. But I'll be happy to discuss my ignorance with you over dinner."

"You're on. 1800, Officers' Mess. See you then."

Scotty stopped to speak with Spock on the way out the door.

"A word wi' ye, if'n I may?"

"Certainly, Mr. Scott."

"Di ye know why Cap'n Young has set such a slow speed? Warp Two is almost crawlin', an' I understood they were in someat' o' a hurry ta git Cap'n Kirk ta his post."

"I assumed you had requested the slow speed."

"Not I, sir. Ma engines 're in fine shape."

"I will inquire of Captain Young. Thank you for bringing it to my attention."

Spock returned to the Bridge. Captain Young was not there, but had left word he was to relieve Lieutenant Tanis of the conn and hold it until shift change.

"Mr. Byrd, excuse me, Chuck. As I will be unable to meet with any of the others I mentioned earlier, you may wish to take your leave. However, feel free to stay as long as you like. I shall be on the Bridge until 1900."

"Thank you. I'll stay for a little while."

Spock took care of several administrative details. Then he called Captain Young, who was in his office.

"Captain, is there anything about your plans for the next 24 to 48 hours that I should be aware of?"

"No, Mr. Spock, I don't think so."

"If there is any information you require, or assistance you desire, you have only to ask. I am here to serve."

"Thank you, Mr. Spock. I'll keep that in mind."

"One other thing, sir. It has come to my attention that our slow speed is not due to a request from Engineering. That being the case, it is my duty to remind you that in the eyes of Starfleet, Warp Two does not constitute 'all due speed'."

"I'm aware of that, Mr. Spock. My responsibility. Young out."

"Spock," Chuck asked, "At current speed, how long will it take us to get to Outpost #67?"

"Approximately ten days."

**taken from the novel _Prime Directive_ by Judith and Garfield Reeves-Stevens


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

"Ten days!? That's absolutely ridiculous!" the doctor sputtered.

Chuck had joined McCoy and Sam for dinner, and was not surprised at the reaction.

"Wait til Jim hears about this! He'll be climbing the walls. Tranquilizers are looking better and better."

"Tranquilizers, for Jim Kirk? I don't believe it," Chuck stated adamantly.

"Oh, I agree, he hates them. But right now, he needs a hole to crawl into, and there's only so long he can hide out in Cabin D4."

"Jim Kirk is hiding? I repeat, I don't believe it. That man can take anything. You didn't see what we did to him in that cell on the base."

McCoy scented a story. "No, I didn't, but I'd like to know, and it's not likely he'll tell me. Sam, this isn't classified, is it?"

"Everybody on the base heard about it, because the security officers couldn't stop talking about it. I imagine the _Enterprise_ crew knows too. Only reason you don't is because you were in the brig."

So Chuck told him. McCoy was suitably appalled, but not surprised that Kirk could and would do such things. And he still maintained that Jim was hiding. Just then Spock walked in, and McCoy asked him for confirmation.

"I have not spoken with him since last evening. I do not know his present state of mind."

"But given the situation, is it logical that Jim would be hiding?"

"As you are fond of stating, matters of the heart are rarely logical."

"Well, I guess I'll just have to go see for myself. If you gentlemen will excuse me." McCoy left.

"Spock," Chuck began as Spock sat down with his dinner. "If you're not otherwise occupied, I'd like to request one of those ad nauseum lectures Uhura mentioned."

"Indeed." Spock's eyebrow rose in mild curiosity. "On what subject?"

Chuck sat forward earnestly. "How you and Jim became Christians."

"That would be a lengthy discourse, assuming you desire a high level of detail."

"I have all night, and I'm willing to give you something in exchange." Swallowing nervously, Chuck blurted it out before he could change his mind. "I will tell you what Jim Kirk did to me, and how I felt about it."

"That is unnecessary."

"But Jim said if I wish to know, I have to be willing to be known."

Spock nodded acquiescence and Sam excused himself, saying he had already heard both stories. It was true that Chuck had just shared what Kirk had done, but he had never told anyone how he felt about it. He wasn't sure he knew himself. As he struggled to find words to describe his experience, Spock was a patient and attentive listener. When he was finished, Spock had only one comment.

"Jim trusts you a great deal."

"I have sensed that, but why do you think so?"

"He usually reaches such judgments intuitively. As to why I have reached the conclusion that he trusts you, there are very few people with whom he would risk doing such a thing as you describe. The pain or the damage to his face were minor matters. But to push you into a corner risked doing more damage than good. He must have been very sure you would not hate him for doing that to you."

"I couldn't hate him! He told me exactly what he was going to do, and he was enduring so much for me. There was never a hint of self-interest in any of it. When it was all over, I asked for the source of his power. And I was only partly talking about the healed face. Mostly I wanted to know how he could do such things, what inner strength drives him. We were out of time, so he told me to ask you. He said for you to tell me everything. But I must tell you: I am wearing a recording device. Every word you say, as well as what I think of you and your words, goes into my observer's reports."

"That is not a problem. What I am about to tell you is common knowledge aboard this ship. But even if it were not, this subject lies at the center of your investigation. It is not only my duty, but my desire, to share with complete transparency the events that began the Christian movement aboard the _Enterprise_ last year."

xxxx

McCoy buzzed Jim's door and got no response. Thinking Jim might be up and out after all, he pushed the manual override. The door opened, but the lights didn't turn on, which seemed odd. He peered into the room to see if it was occupied.

"Jim? Are you in here?"

"Hello, Bones. Come in and shut the door."

"Men love darkness because their deeds are evil."

"I applaud your restraint. I expected you several hours ago."

McCoy's eyes adjusted and he moved to the bunk where Kirk was staring up at the ceiling. He straddled a chair and sat down, but he still didn't know what to say.

"Your deeds may not be evil, but I can tell your thoughts are depressing. How long have you been staring at the ceiling?"

"Since 1100 this morning. Before that I was sleeping. I'm trying to get used to the idea of being alone."

"And not eating either?"

"Fasting is good for the soul."

"Are you fasting because the Lord told you to, or are you simply too depressed?"

"The Lord hasn't told me anything for the past three days."

"Chuck said an interesting thing about you tonight. He said, 'That man can take anything.' That assessment was based on what he saw of you in his detainment cell."

"Chuck is suffering from a bad case of hero worship. I've got feet of clay just like everybody else. I'm not the Captain anymore. I don't have to be the superhero, and I'm tired of trying to be."

"You quit trying to be a superhero some time ago. Jim, what is wrong with you?!"

"Everything. Now go away and leave me alone." Kirk rolled over and turned his face to the wall.

"All right then. Can't say I didn't try." And McCoy turned to leave. Suddenly he had a strong sense that he should stay. So he turned back and sat down again.

"I'm going to stay right here. You let me know when you're ready to talk." McCoy was reconciled to the idea that he might have to spend all night sitting in the chair, but that's what friends were for, and Jim obviously needed help. He prayed for Kirk, and for wisdom to know how to help.

Suddenly Kirk sat up and turned the lights up. McCoy saw that he had been crying silent tears.

Kirk explained. "When you started to leave, I very desperately wanted you to stay. I was overwhelmed by the fear of being alone. In fact I've been fighting that fear for several days. Spitting out the words 'leave me alone' was almost beyond me. I could not tell you what I was struggling with because I knew you would volunteer to stay. I _will not_ let it control me. So I absolutely would not ask you to stay. But the Lord knows, and He told you to stay. I needed that reassurance of the Lord's presence."

"Do I understand this: that you've been in here alone all day because you're afraid of being alone?" McCoy leaned forward, putting his hands on his knees.

"Yes. If I walk out that door because I can't stand to stay, then the fear has won."

"So you're lying in the dark being afraid, hoping that accepting the fear will lessen its control over you." He leaned back and contemplated Jim. "Is it working?"

"I thought so, til you got here."

"Sounds to me like the fear is controlling you whichever way you go."

"Yes, well then, there's the other reasons for staying here."

"Such as - "

"It's best for crew morale not to have two captains running around. Then there's the fact that I don't have anything to say; it's all been said. Third is that if I stay here, I don't have to face the fact that I'm not running this ship any more. The last reason is the biggie: I can't stand the thought of saying all those goodbyes again, which I will have to do if I reestablish relationships with everybody."

McCoy crossed his arms. "And yet you let me in to see you."

"Yes, well, the fear of being alone overrides all the rest."

"Jim, I could sit here and argue you out of every one of those reasons, but I'm not going to. What you need," he sat forward again, "is some good old-fashioned deliverance. Once we kick the demons out, you won't have any trouble thinking the way God thinks, and then arguments won't be necessary. But I'm not going to try deliverance all by myself. You've got some strong-willed demons there, or they would've left already. I think we should get everybody in here after-"

"Bones," Kirk interrupted. "I know I said no secrets, but I don't want you to tell anybody about this. I can't have everybody showing up at my door wanting to keep me company because I'm afraid to be left alone. And don't try to tell me they wouldn't. Except Spock - he already knows. He sensed the fear in me, and when I told him what it was, he volunteered a permanent mind link - the kind where you die if your partner dies, or you wish you had. And he knows perfectly well that I expect to die on Outpost #67. So you can talk to Spock about it, but nobody else."

"What about Chuck?"

"Yes, you can tell him too. He was there when Spock and I were talking about it. Anyway, he understands me."

"First, it's hero worship, then it's understanding."

Kirk sat up, almost animated in his description of Chuck. "I don't know, maybe he does have a touch of hero worship, but I've never met anyone like him. He's one of those psychoanalysis guys that can read you like a book just looking at you. And he's very good at it too. But he understands and practices unconditional acceptance. He knows exactly how I'm wired and what makes me tick, but he never takes advantage of it to hurt me, nor does he feel superior because of his knowledge. He's a cross between you and Spock."

"Interesting character assessment. So, Spock, Chuck, and myself. Are you sure I can't call in more troops?"

"I'm sure. We can always add the others if this doesn't work." The prospect of action was starting to pull Kirk out of his depression.

"Okay, if it's all right with you, I'd like to borrow your terminal and spend an hour or so in the Word and prayer. Then we can call Spock. Will you be all right til then?"

"Bones! Don't ask me that!" Immediately the depression was back. Kirk wiped a hand over his face, trying to control it, not very successfully.

McCoy was contrite. "Sorry. I know better. I'll pray for you."

"What makes you think Spock won't need any preparation?"

"My impression is that he's always prayed up, but I suppose it would be a courtesy to warn him." He moved to the intercom. "McCoy to Spock."

_"Yes, Doctor."_

"Would you be available for a conference in D4 in an hour? Come prayed up."

_"Certainly. I believe I can arrange that."_

"Good. Bring Chuck if he wants to come. McCoy out."

xxxx

"Where's D4; what's 'prayed up' mean; and why would I not want to come?" Chuck had overheard the entire conversation.

"D4 is the cabin assigned to Captain Kirk. I will have to show you what it means to get 'prayed up', but the doctor was telling me that the purpose of this conference is to engage in significant spiritual warfare. As to why you might not wish to attend, I can think of at least two reasons. The hour is not yet late, but spiritual warfare can be a lengthy process. You may not wish to commit to a session that could last all night."

Chuck disposed of their food trays and prepared to depart. "I would have to quit by 0400. That would give me two hours to write my report before the 0600 briefing. What's the other reason?"

Spock returned to his seat and gave no indication of leaving. "Spiritual warfare can be messy and very ugly. You may not wish to disturb your image of Captain Kirk."

"Surely you're joking!" Chuck sat down abruptly. "My image of Jim Kirk needs to be as close to reality as I can get without being inside his skin. And that goes for the rest of you too. Besides, I've already seen plenty that wasn't what I'd call neat and orderly." He really wanted in on this and didn't quite see why Spock hesitated.

"Yes, but are you willing to see Jim weak, not strong? Are you willing to see a man fail, who doesn't believe in the word 'failure'? Do you want to see Jim fall apart in a way that is neither honorable nor courageous?" Spock's concern appeared to be for Chuck, not for Kirk, in spite of the dire description.

"If that is part of him, then yes. But how can you know what's going to happen?"

"I know Jim Kirk; I know what's wrong with him; and I know what it's going to take to fix it. And no, such behavior is not strictly who Jim is. Demonic behavior is often contrary to the victim's true personality, but it requires discernment to tell the difference."

The appalling description just made Chuck more eager to attend. "I don't understand what demonic behavior is, or spiritual warfare either, for that matter, but you're not going to succeed in scaring me off. So count me in, unless you have some other reason for not wanting me there."

"I have no objections to your presence, nor do Jim or Dr. McCoy, since they expressly invited you. I regret the narrative we were engaged upon will have to wait. If you will accompany me to my quarters, I will show you how I make preparations for spiritual warfare." They went out the door.

In the lift, Chuck tried to continue the conversation. "It's too bad you couldn't come up with a better stopping place. You're trying to decide whether to attack Jim; he's pretending you already have - I'll be up all night guessing whether you did or not."

"There are no good stopping places, but yes, I did attack him."

"And you're both alive and well, and still friends. You're right; each bit of information only raises new questions. I'll just have to contain my curiosity."

They reached Spock's quarters. Chuck made no comment about the dark red lighting, the slightly higher gravity, and the uncomfortably warm temperature. Spock did not apologize for the conditions, as he normally would have. Somehow, his relationship with Chuck had already gone past such formalities. He was shocked to realize he felt almost as open with Chuck as he did with Jim. Extraordinary! He resisted raising an eyebrow at the thought. He explained briefly what he would be doing.

"Preparing for spiritual warfare involves several steps. I must quiet my soul and lay aside all distractions. Then I confess and renounce any sin. Next I focus my entire attention on the Lord and I worship Him. Finally I listen for anything He might wish to tell me. Any or all of these things may include Scripture. There are no specific outward rituals that go with any of this. Normally, none of it would be spoken aloud, but this time I will, so that you may follow. Do you have any questions?"

"Spock, this sounds pretty personal. Why are you willing to open yourself to me and my reports?"

"The proper Vulcan answer is that it is my duty to aid the investigation in any way I can. But the truth is much more complex than that. There is something about you that invites openness. You are eminently trustworthy. It would be much more difficult to be open with Commodore Sullivan, even though I know he will read your report. In addition, Jim Kirk would have me be completely transparent with you, and I will do almost anything for him. The overriding reason however, is that the Lord wants me to do this."

"Thank you. No further questions."

As Chuck listened to Spock pray, his overwhelming impression was that Spock was talking to a real person. Spock repeated for Chuck's benefit everything the Lord said, so he heard both sides of the conversation. And conversation was what it was. It did sort of follow the outline Spock had described, but it was by no means a formula. It flowed with life.

The experience did more to convince Chuck of the reality of the Lord than Jim's healed face had. And he had been pretty well convinced by that. But it did something more. It awakened in Chuck a desire to know this person Spock was talking to. But he doubted that was possible for mere mortals like himself. Spock and Kirk were different. However, now was not the time to inquire.

Spock finished praying and they departed for Cabin D4. Nothing was said en route. Entering Kirk's quarters, they saw him sitting on the bed, and McCoy in a chair by the computer terminal.

"I'll be with you in just a moment," was McCoy's greeting.

Kirk said nothing, but looked at them bleakly out of hollow haunted eyes. He had made the bunk, taken a shower, and put on a clean uniform, but to Spock's practiced eye, Kirk was a mess.

*Hang on a little while longer, Jim.*

Startled, Kirk stared at Spock.

*You heard that?*

*Yes, I did, Spock.*

*Jim, you're not going to understand this, but I have to shut this down.*

*Do it, Spock, while I can still want you to.*

Spock put up several layers of shields, his heart aching for Jim as he did so. He was also berating himself for not having done it before walking in. Then he looked a question at Jim, who shook his head. The link was broken. Spock nodded, and Kirk nodded in response. Chuck observed and wondered what was going on. So when McCoy stood up, he asked him.

"Do Spock and Jim always talk without saying anything? A nod, a shake of the head, and I feel as if they've had an entire conversation."

McCoy laughed. "Yeah, you get used to it. If we need to know what they said, they'll tell us. Each almost always knows what the other is thinking. They use it mostly in combat or diplomatic situations. Saves time or embarrassment. Why, are they doing it now?"

Spock looked another question at Kirk, who nodded permission to share this phenomenon.

Chuck saw it. "They just did it again!"

"Doctor, while we did indeed just do it again, what precipitated the first observation was something entirely different. As you know, under normal circumstances, to establish a mental link, I must be in physical contact with the person. However, on four occasions within the last three days, I have been in mental contact with Jim without touching him. The fourth occasion happened just now. What Chuck observed was our confirming that the link was broken."

McCoy's anger ignored the fact that this should have been impossible. "Let me get this straight: You walked in here, established a mindlink with Jim, and then broke that link, all in the first three minutes you were in here?!"

Spock ignored the emotional reaction. "So far as I have been able to ascertain, I have no control over establishing this kind of link, only over breaking it. I determined that it was necessary to break this link, and Jim concurred with my decision."

"He did, did he? Do you have any idea what it cost him to agree with you?!" Suddenly he dropped into the desk chair and sighed. "Never mind, of course you do. I'm sorry."

"It is I who am sorry. I should have anticipated this possibility and raised my shields before entering this room. Instead, because of my thoughtlessness, Jim's pain is magnified." A brief glimpse of anguish crossed his face, which he made no effort to conceal from any of them.

"Stop it, Spock! What's done is done." Kirk's voice was ragged.

Spock dropped to his knees in front of Kirk.

"Jim, can you forgive me for increasing your pain?"

"I don't have energy to argue blame. Yes, I forgive you, Spock. Do you forgive yourself?"

Spock gave it to the Lord, knowing that if he didn't keep a clear conscience, the enemy would gain a foothold.

"Yes, I do."

"Good. Tell them about the other times. And I want to hear your theory. This has never happened before. Why now?"

Spock sat on the floor, Chuck perched on the end of the bunk, and McCoy moved the chair closer.

"The first two occasions were in the brig at Starbase 7. The third was last night in the transporter room. When Jim began embracing each of the crew, I was aware that I was receiving his thoughts as well as his feelings. It had been my intention to leave the link open even after he had transported off the vessel, as an experiment. Since he did not in fact leave, I shut the link down when he left the transporter room. Jim, can you confirm my impression that you are unaware of the link, unless I speak to you?"

"That's right, Spock."

"The first two occasions differed primarily in that we were separated by a force field. He could see me, but my only awareness of him was through the mental link. Having discovered it quite by accident, we attempted to reestablish the link through two force fields, but were unsuccessful. I do not know whether that was due to the distance, the force fields, or the lack of circumstances that trigger the link.

"My only theory is based on what occurred the first time. Prior to the incident, I had been in prayer and meditation specifically for Jim. My first awareness of him was an overwhelming sense of grief. Normally upon any awareness of such a strong emotion, I would immediately erect defensive shields, so as to be unaffected by the emotions of those around me. On this occasion, I did the exact opposite. Knowing whose emotion it was, I dropped all shields and welcomed his grief into my heart. I believe it was this action that triggered the mental link. These circumstances have been present on all four occasions."

"So what you're saying," Kirk summarized, "is that it occurs spontaneously when the conditions are right - those conditions being proximity, lowered shields, and raw emotion. But I have trouble believing those conditions have never happened before."

"There is one other factor that has not occurred in this form before. We have faced death many times, both separately and together. In this instance, though death is not imminent, we both believe it to be an inevitable result of the circumstances facing you. In previous situations, the crisis was over in a relatively short period of time. In this instance, we have had months to contemplate it, and death may not occur for several months yet. What is imminent is the separation." Spock had been addressing his explanation largely to McCoy, while not excluding Chuck. But now he focused his attention on Kirk.

"Jim, I have a confession to make. Yesterday, when I offered you a permanent mind link, it was for my benefit, not yours. I knew that you should refuse, but I hoped that you would give in. I tried to take advantage of your weakness. I wanted contact with you right up to the end, knowing what it would cost you."

Before becoming a Christian, he never would have admitted such a thing, even to Kirk. Possibly he wouldn't have allowed himself to commit the sin, but Kirk had gotten under his defenses a long time ago, and he had never fooled himself into thinking Vulcans were sinless. But Jim was looking confused at his last statement. Further explanation was needed.

"You see, I have done this once before. You do not remember it, because it was in an alternate time stream. For you it never really happened. I did not expect to remember it either, but I do. You were seriously injured, and I established a mind link to give you strength. After establishing the link, we both realized you were, in fact, dying. You knew I would die with you, because I would not leave. Your last thought was panic at your inability to save my life. That panic gave you the strength to literally throw me out of your mind."

Kirk gave him a half-smile at the mental image.

"It is not right for me to knowingly put you in the position of having to do that again. Can you forgive me for trying to take advantage of you?"

"Yes, Spock, I forgive you." It was an automatic response. Kirk immediately moved on. "Do I understand correctly that the additional factor is your emotional state? You're as upset about this as I am, and we're feeding each other's emotional trauma?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Bones, does that mean Spock has demons we need to get rid of too?"

"Good question. Let me ask the Lord." There was silence for perhaps two minutes. "No, the Lord says Spock's clean. Emotional trauma doesn't necessarily mean demonic oppression. I've got a question, though. Spock, you said we've had months to think about this. How do you translate a few days into months?"

"Jim has known this was coming for at least two months."

McCoy looked at Kirk for confirmation.

"He's right, Bones. But Spock, how did you know? Did the Lord tell you too?"

"No, you did."

"I did?" Kirk's tone indicated mild curiosity, not disbelief.

"Not in words, nor have I been surreptitiously reading your mind. Jim, I have never done that to you, nor will I." Spock's slight emphasis would have been a fervent denial in anyone else.

"I didn't think you had, but I have no objections to your doing so. Just remember, I won't know you've been there unless you tell me."

"Indeed."

The room was silent while the two of them acknowledged the vastness of the permission Kirk had just given.

Spock went on. "I correlated hundreds of subtle hints that when taken separately meant nothing, but when added together supported my conclusion that you expected to be permanently separated from us and the _Enterprise_ sometime in the near future. Would you like to tell us how you came to this expectation?"

So Kirk shared with them what the Lord had told him three months ago. Then he went on to tell what had occurred in his cell three nights previously. After which McCoy tried to summarize.

"Let me see if I understand this. Three months ago, the Lord told you He was going to take away your ship and crew, but He wasn't going to kill us off. Instead He would send you to the Klingons to die."

"I'm the one that said I would die. He didn't deny it."

"Whatever. Then three days ago, He said not only that, but He's going to let the Enemy jam your communications. Bottom line is, while He's leading you deaf and dumb to the slaughter, He wants you to trust Him." If there'd been room to pace, McCoy would undoubtedly have been doing so. He settled for hands-on-hips in as confrontational a posture as he could manage sitting down.

Kirk smiled briefly. "Bones, you do have a way with words. You're essentially correct, except for the 'dumb' part. I can talk to the Lord; I just have to be careful not to ask any questions, because I don't want demons answering them. And sometimes, I'm aware of the Lord's peace, though even that has been absent since last night."

McCoy sat back and crossed his arms. "I'm not quite sure where the fear of being alone comes in."

"I was first aware of it three nights ago. It was what clued me in to the fact that I was under attack. I had just asked the Lord a question, and got no response. This was before He told me I might not be able to hear Him sometimes. My reaction to the lack of response was panic, which was so foreign an idea that I knew it wasn't me. I kicked the demons out, and was able to hear the Lord speak to me. But the next morning they were back. I managed to shut them up, but I can't get rid of the fear. Panic no longer feels like a foreign idea."

"Would you say that the root of it is a fear that the Lord has abandoned you?"

"Maybe, but your saying that doesn't bring an emotional response in me. And I certainly know with my mind that it's not true. So maybe the source of it is something else, but I sure don't know what."

Putting his elbows on his knees, McCoy quietly asked, "Jim, how much do you trust me?"

Kirk looked at Chuck and laughed. Then he turned back to McCoy. "Bones, you haven't had to ask me that since the knee surgery twenty-five years ago."

"This is a very different kind of surgery, and I'm by no means an expert. How much do you trust Spock?"

"An equally dumb question. What do you want me to do?"

"What about Chuck?" McCoy wasn't going to be rushed or distracted.

"Now that's interesting. Don't ask me why, but I trust Chuck implicitly." He gave McCoy a wry grin. "Bones, why do I get the feeling you're stalling?"

Unamused, McCoy ignored the teasing tone. "Jim, Spock and I have been in on a few deliverance sessions, and it's an ugly, messy business. We've had a couple of failures, too. As near as I can figure, it's because the victim wasn't able to trust sufficiently to open it up to the light.

"Demons have to have some hook, or they can't stay. There's some stronghold, some reason they have authority to plague you. Whatever it is, it's not something you'll be eager to let us know about, much less let go of. To find out what it is, I want to get the demons to manifest themselves. That means letting them control your behavior." He peered at Kirk intently to make sure he was taking this seriously.

Satisfied, he went on. "Now, the goal of all demons is to destroy their victim. Failing that, a secondary goal is to render you powerless. In your case, I suspect that would involve getting you to do something so disgracefully dishonorable that you couldn't live with yourself afterwards.

"So that is why I ask, how much do you trust?"

Kirk gave McCoy a steady look and said simply, "Enough. But if I understand what you have in mind, you better strip this room of anything that's not bolted down."


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

This they accomplished in a matter of minutes. They then sat on the floor in a circle. Spock was across from Kirk with his back to the door. Kirk gazed at Spock, whose face was unreadable.

_Good_, thought Kirk, _if I could read him, this would be considerably riskier._

"Spock, I have three concerns. First, make sure I don't get out of this room. This ship does not need a demon-crazed former captain running around getting into who knows what trouble. Second, make sure I don't kill anybody. Relational problems are repairable; killing's pretty permanent. So, whatever you have to do. Third, no mind-melds, Spock, no matter how much you want to. I don't know what a demon could do with that, and I don't want to find out. So quadruple your shields, get super-Vulcan, whatever it takes. I need you to be an immovable, unshakable rock."

As Kirk watched, Spock's eyes displayed a warmth, a reaching out, a longing to embrace Kirk's pain and wash it away. Then just as suddenly, they became cold and distant. Spock's face and body took on a hardness that Kirk had not seen for years. For a moment Kirk contemplated what it must be costing Spock to do that. Then Spock nodded fractionally that he was ready.

_Thank you, my friend_, thought Kirk.

"Any instructions, Bones?"

"Don't try to make it happen. Let it happen." McCoy continued talking quietly. "Just relax. Stop trying to control the fear. Let it control you."

Suddenly Kirk went limp. McCoy did a quick visual inspection and decided Jim had done it on purpose, acting out in his body the letting go of control. He went on.

"Think about the words, 'leave me alone.' How do they make you feel?"

Kirk didn't answer, but began shaking and whimpering like an injured animal.

"Jim, what are you feeling? Give me some words. What does 'leave me alone' make you feel?"

Kirk began moaning deep in his throat, with a touch of hysteria in the moan.

Chuck was slightly unnerved by the sound. _You asked for this,_ he told himself. _And Spock warned you, so knock it off. They don't need you for a distraction._ He took a deep breath and continued to watch.

"Jim, how would it be if we all slip out and leave you alone?" On the last words, McCoy started to rise.

Kirk's eyes shot open in alarm. Seeing McCoy start to stand, he lunged, caught his wrists, and pulled him back to the floor. "No! You can't!" Suddenly realizing what he had done, Kirk let go of McCoy, sat down, and put his face in his hands.

"Let it happen, Jim," McCoy said quietly.

"I'm trying, Bones."

"I know you are, and we'll get there, I promise. But since you're talking at the moment, got any words for what you were feeling?"

"Lonely, desolate, abandoned. Unloved, worthless."

"Worthless?"

"Yes. As if my value is tied to you all. Without my function as Captain, I'm worthless. I know it's ridiculous, but there it is."

"Jim, I want you to confess it as sin, renounce it as a lie of the Enemy, declare the truth, and ask the Lord for His peace."

"Lord, I confess that I have sinned. I have believed the lie of the Enemy that my worth is based on what I do. I renounce the Enemy's lie that I am worthless because I am no longer Captain of the _Enterprise_. I declare the truth that my worth is based not on what I do, but on who I am. I am a child of the King. I belong to You, Jesus; You paid a great price for me. I am exceedingly valuable in Your sight. Lord, I ask You now, if I am free from the Enemy, and completely clean, will You give me Your peace?"

After a moment, Kirk opened his eyes and looked bleakly at McCoy. "No peace."

"That's okay. Just means we're not finished. We're making progress, but there's more. I want you to go back to the limp dishrag state."

Without further comment, Kirk simply collapsed. Making his body do that was easy. Making his mind give up control was something else again. But he tried.

"Think again about the words, 'leave me alone.' How do they make you feel? How would you feel if we all got up and left you alone?"

Kirk tried to get in touch with that lonely, desolate feeling that had been so real before. But there was nothing there. And his mind was working overtime.

"Sorry, Bones, it's not working. I know you're not going anywhere. And the feelings have evaporated. There's nothing there. I just feel numb."

"I have something in my quarters that may help. Back in two minutes." And McCoy departed.

Kirk looked briefly at Spock, ascertained that he was still heavily shielding, and turned his attention to Chuck. He appeared be holding it together, but not nearly as poker-faced as he might like.

"Any comment or question, while we wait?" It was an open invitation, without pressure.

"Only that you're as willing to take it as you are to dish it out. This situation bears a marked resemblance to what went on with Lt. Johnson."

"Yes, well, I'm not proud of the fact that it needs doing. But I'm grateful for friends who can help, and are willing to give up a night's rest. Are you sure you want to stay?"

"Absolutely. 0400 is my deadline; we've got six hours yet."

McCoy returned carrying an odd-looking metal band of some kind.

"What kind of torture is this, Bones?" Kirk grinned.

"You laugh, but that's exactly what I'm going to use it for. It's designed as a training tool for those who have to work with patients who are both blind and deaf. After I put this on your head, you will not be able to see or hear at all, and you will not be able to take it off."

"I can guess why you want to do this, but since I won't be able to hear you, do you have any instructions?"

"No instructions, and I'm not telling you how long I'm going to leave it on either."

Kirk offered no objections, or further comment. Chuck was amazed that Kirk needed no explanations, nor did he appear apprehensive about what was to come. How could he jump from being fearful one minute, to being fearless the next? Come to think of it, Kirk hadn't appeared fearful since the moment he let go of McCoy some twenty minutes ago.

With the device in place, McCoy pulled Kirk to his feet and began to spin him around as if playing Blind Man's Bluff. Chuck backed out of range, and Spock locked the door. Kirk began to laugh. McCoy let go and backed away.

"Sorry Bones, I know it's not funny."

"You know what I'm thinking even when you can't see or hear," marveled McCoy.

"Am I supposed to chase you all over this room, while you stay just out of range? No, I don't think so; the spinning was just to make sure I have no idea where the door is. By the way, if you want me to shut up, put a hand over my mouth. Otherwise I'll keep talking. I'm guessing you'd like to know what I'm thinking." He paused. McCoy didn't move.

"The next thing I'm going to do is find out where I am. I'd feel pretty silly talking to a wall." He explored carefully but systematically with his feet, taking one step at a time until he ran into something. Examining it with his hands, he discovered it to be the desk.

"Okay, if this is the desk, then the bed is four steps in this direction." He turned around, took four unerring steps in the right direction, arrived at the bed, and sat on the floor in front of it. "Come on back and sit down," he gestured. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Don't," McCoy instructed. "I don't want you anywhere within range. I want him to feel completely isolated."

"Are you sure he can't see or hear us? He's acting as if he can."

"He's a good actor. I'm positive it works. I wore it myself for an hour last month."

Kirk was talking again. "I'm thinking about what this feels like. I've been deprived of sight more often than sound, almost never both at once. Each seems to magnify the other. It's a very loud silence, a very black darkness, if you know what I mean.

"The sense of touch becomes all-important. I like sitting on the floor because I can feel the ship's engines. It's reassuringly normal. It would be fun to explore this whole room by touch. I'm sure I'd learn something. But that's not why you gave me this device, and I don't want to waste your time." He lifted his hands off the floor, as if to reject that crutch.

"You want me to feel completely alone. And you're right, I can't know for certain that you are still here. I could be talking to an empty room. But without any subjective evidence, I believe you are here, just as I believe the Lord is here, because I know you, and I know what your purpose is. The only thing that would make you leave before we're finished is a red alert. If that happens, just go. Don't waste precious seconds trying to explain it to me. The ship comes first, always."

Kirk grinned with mischief, and looked directly at Spock, who was standing in front of the door.

"I've just thought of a way to get some subjective evidence that you're here. Spock, I know you're guarding that door. If I tried to leave, you would stop me, and then I would know you were here." He sobered. "But I'm not going to do that. Wouldn't work anyway, because you'd know I was bluffing."

"Sounds to me like his mind is working overtime. I'm not sure what you hoped to achieve, Dr. McCoy, but I don't think it's working. He just sees this as a challenge."

"Wait and see, Chuck. He knows what I want. He'll get there. Mind you, I wouldn't try this with just anybody. But Jim doesn't need any verbal coaching. Just look at Spock, if you doubt my assessment."

Spock hadn't said a word since they began. Nor had he taken his eyes off Kirk. His body language was that of readiness for anything. "Soon, Doctor," was all he said.

Kirk took a deep breath and moved forward away from the bed. "Lord, I need Your help. I need You to disengage the control of my mind and engage my feelings. I need to know what there is in me that gives the Enemy a handle. No matter how bad it is, I want to know. Lord, help me let go and give the demons free reign to manifest themselves, so we can find out what they're attached to."

Kirk took several deep breaths, during which a subtle change came over him. Gone was the man who found the sudden loss of sight and sound merely a challenge to be faced and overcome with joy and humor. In his place was a fear-crazed coward who would do almost anything to avoid being alone. The change was evident in his body language before he ever opened his mouth. Even so, Chuck was shocked at the completeness of the transformation.

Kirk moaned, that haunting, desolate sound. He began to sway back and forth. Then he let loose an ear-splitting scream.

"Bones! How could you do this to me!? You knew I was just barely coping before. This is too much. I can't stand it! You know I can't stand it! You did this to me on purpose! You're just plain mean! I hate you! Do you hear, McCoy? I hate you!"

With that, Kirk launched himself in the direction he was sure McCoy was hiding in. McCoy, however, was able to slip past him and get to the other side of the room. When Kirk discovered that corner of the room was empty, he turned and charged the other side of the room. McCoy and Chuck both managed to evade him. On the third charge, Kirk ran into the desk, fell and cut his forehead. He lay on his back, dazed and bleeding.

McCoy started to go to him, but Spock stopped him.

"Don't, Doctor. He's baiting you."

McCoy forced himself to keep his distance. Spock was probably right. He would give it two minutes.

Kirk laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. "You're too clever, Doctor. What kind of a doctor won't even treat the injured? A mean and cruel one. You're a heartless tormenter. Well, I'm getting blood all over your toy, so it'll fit right in with the rest of your medieval equipment. Your Sickbay is a torture chamber!"

Kirk's words hurt, as McCoy knew they were intended to. And Kirk was right - he was torturing him on purpose, because he knew Kirk couldn't stand it. He needed something Kirk couldn't stand in order for the demons to reveal themselves sufficiently to be got rid of. McCoy forgave Kirk for hurting him, as he had known he would need to.

Kirk had been staunching the blood flow with the sleeve of his uniform. That was the trouble with head wounds - they bled too much. Finally getting it under control, Kirk staggered to his feet, clinging to the desk for support. He resumed chasing Chuck and McCoy back and forth across the room, but his charges were neither as quick nor as straight. He staggered erratically in all directions, which was much harder to evade. McCoy figured he was doing it on purpose in an attempt to capture one of them. On the fourth try, he succeeded.

They had just gotten past him one more time when he suddenly reversed direction and staggered headlong into Chuck. Immediately pulling him to the floor, he clung for dear life. McCoy yelled at Chuck.

"Get free of him! Hurt him if you have to, but get out of there!"

Chuck pressed his thumbs into Kirk's elbows, pinching the central nerve. Kirk screamed in pain and rage, his hands and forearms numb and useless. As his grip on Chuck's legs loosened, Chuck brought his knee up into Kirk's solar plexus. Kirk's scream was silenced as he was flung on his back, completely unable to breathe.

McCoy glanced at Chuck. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, but he isn't."

"He'll recover his wind in a minute, and be on his feet in two."

"I'm not so sure. He screamed because I numbed his hands. They're completely useless. He can't feel a thing. And he won't for at least thirty minutes."

"You think that'll stop him? Jim Kirk doesn't know what 'give up' means."

"And the demons don't either?"

"I'm hoping they're not quite as stubborn as Jim is."

Kirk was gasping for air.

"Chuck, ... you're ... as mean ... as McCoy!"

"How does he know it was me?"

"Process of elimination. He knows it wasn't Spock, and he knows it wasn't me."

Kirk struggled awkwardly to his feet. Again making it appear to be random erratic staggering, he nonetheless carefully covered the entire floor space of the room twice more. On the third circuit, he suddenly lurched against the door, where Spock had been standing a moment before. But Spock understood Kirk's devious mind very well and had anticipated him. He even knew what Kirk would do next.

Kirk dropped to his knees and unlocked the door with his nose. Leaning against the door, he fell across the threshold when the door opened.

"Spock, you promised," he whispered.

Spock moved to pick him up, but McCoy stopped him.

"Don't touch him, Spock. Chuck, grab his feet and pull him back in here. Can you do to his feet what you did to his hands?"

"I'll try."

Chuck managed to immobilize the right leg, but Kirk kicked him in the chest and sent him sprawling before he could reach the left leg.

"Chuck, don't! I promise I'll stay here," Kirk pleaded.

Chuck looked a question at McCoy.

"Do it anyway," was McCoy's response.

So Chuck circled, approached from the other side, pounced, and had the job done before Kirk could do more than arch his back in protest.

"Break my back too," he complained bitterly. "Then I really couldn't move."

If he could manage to turn over, he could crawl on his belly. But Kirk decided it wasn't worth the trouble. He had exhausted all his tricks, anyway. He'd managed to prove they were there - well, at least Chuck was. But he was certain Spock and McCoy were there too. As certain as if he could see or hear them.

Almost without volition, he reached for Spock's mind - and met absolute silence. As before, that silence was worse than physical separation. The ache in his soul was physically painful. All the rest of this had been an attempt to avoid facing this pain. But the demons were still in control and not ready to give up yet.

"Spock," Kirk pleaded quietly. "The silence is deafening."

This was what Spock had been waiting for all evening, what he had built his defenses to withstand. He prayed for strength.

"All of this," and he vaguely gestured with an elbow. "It's nothing compared to the silence from you. Spock, I can't stand it! Please, talk to me! Please!

"Spock, I know I said it wasn't safe, but surely we could risk a few seconds. Say something, Spock. Anything! Just three words; just one word. I'm so alone, Spock. I need to feel your presence for just a moment. It's not much to ask after all we've been through. Just one moment, Spock. Please! I beg you!"

Kirk's begging continued for almost ten minutes. Chuck remembered what Jim had said about being an immovable rock. He had thought at the time that Jim meant physically strong. He saw now that this onslaught was much worse than any physical attack. Chuck looked at Spock and wondered how he could stand to listen to this and remain unmoved. But Jim had known he could.

After a while, Chuck stopped listening to the words, and just heard the tone of voice. It was the voice of a child begging for his Daddy's love. But this child expected rejection. Even so, the need was there, so he continued to ask. Was this what Spock meant by disgracefully falling apart? Chuck didn't think it was disgraceful - haunting and unnerving, definitely, but not dishonorable.

Chuck wasn't sure how much more of this he could take, but Spock and McCoy were obviously waiting for something. He was about to ask what, when Kirk changed his attack.

"Okay, Spock, I understand why you won't talk to me. But there's something else you can do for me, if you will. You could do it easily. I know you could, Spock. Easy and quick."

McCoy gasped. Spock's already still form became even more so. Chuck didn't know what Kirk was talking about, but clearly Spock and McCoy did.

"It would be safer for the Federation. What if I get captured, instead of killed outright? It could happen. How long would I last under their latest interrogation techniques? I wouldn't like to have to bet it would be long enough. It can take a long time to die. This would be quick and easy."

Realization came suddenly to Chuck, and Kirk's next words confirmed it.

"Spock, kill me now, please. I don't want to die alone."

"That's it!" McCoy spoke quietly but intensely. "But I want to be sure. Spock, sit on him. I want him to solidly feel your presence. See if he changes his mind."

Without a word, Spock straddled Kirk's chest, his knees under Kirk's arms. Kirk gasped with the suddenness of it, then smiled eagerly.

"Yes, Spock, thank you. But I sense hesitation. It's not dishonorable to honor the last request of a friend. The Federation doesn't understand such honor, but Vulcans do. Spock, you're first, last, and always, a Vulcan. Kill me, Spock. Don't make me beg. You don't have to say anything. The goodbye's have all been said. Just do it, now."

"Put your hands on his neck. I want him to think he's about to die."

Spock complied.

"Thank you, Spock. I didn't want to die alone." And Kirk relaxed completely, a smile of contentment on his face.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

"Spock, hold your position. Demons in James Kirk, hear me. Demon of death, demon of fear, demon of fear of death, demon of fear of being alone, demon of fear of dying alone: I bind you in the name of Jesus, and by the power of His blood. You may not speak, or influence Jim's thinking or behavior. You must be silent, by the authority of Jesus Christ."

Kirk took a deep breath. "No, Spock, I can't ask you to do this. It's just not right for me to take the easy way out at your expense." Kirk was still completely relaxed, and he made no attempt to remove Spock's hands from his neck.

"That thought was mine!" he said with surprise. "The demons are silent. It's unlikely they would have left of their own accord, so it must be your doing. But I'm not sure what you want me to do now. What is there in all of that that you consider the key? It all seems pretty awful to me.

"And Spock, why are you still poised to break my neck? Is McCoy making you do that? Bones, he'll never admit it, but you're putting a terrible stress on Spock, physically, mentally, and emotionally. Are you sure it's necessary?"

"That's the Jim Kirk I know - more concerned about you than he is about himself. Okay Spock, you can take your hands off his neck. But if you can handle it, I'd like you to stay on top of him."

Spock didn't move. "It is not a problem, Doctor. I can maintain the hand position for as long as necessary, and Jim knows that. I sense there's an important reason you would like them to stay."

"Yes. I don't want Jim to get too far away from how he felt asking you to kill him. Because to finish this, we have to go back there."

"I understand, Doctor. How do we proceed then?"

"Same question Jim asked."

Chuck interrupted. "Dr. McCoy, I observe that Jim is completely relaxed and breathing calmly, apparently not at all concerned about the possibility of a broken neck. Is that because he still wants Spock to kill him, or because he is certain that Spock won't kill him?"

"Both, probably. Any opinions, Spock?"

"Yes, Chuck. Jim is absolutely confident that I will not kill him. However, his only reason for not wanting me to is because of its affect on me. Concern for his own life is nonexistent."

Kirk was talking again. "Since you're still here, I assume it's necessary. The only reason I can think of is that you want me to stay focused on the moment when I really thought you were going to kill me. Is there something about that moment that holds the key? I'm assuming we're not finished, because you haven't taken off this toy. That means the demons are silenced but not departed."

Chuck was becoming bolder in interrupting with questions. "Doctor, why do you have to keep him guessing? He doesn't have much to go on."

"He's a good guesser. If I have to remove the sensory deprivation unit, he'll lose all the focus and concentration of the past hour. I'll do that if he's way off base, or just can't get there without help. But let's give him a chance to work it out."

"The key is probably something I said, since you couldn't know what I felt. But I'll have to tell you what I felt in order to remember what I said. I was begging you to talk to me, not really believing you would. I can't possibly remember everything I said then, so for now, I'm going to assume the key is after that.

"The idea came suddenly that you could kill me. It seemed like the perfect solution. I remember being surprised that you agreed so readily. Oh -" he said with sudden understanding, "You never did agree. You just wanted me to think you were really going to do it. And I did. I was so grateful. At that moment, there was nothing I wanted more than for you to kill me. I didn't want to die alone." He paused.

"That's it, isn't it? I don't want to die alone. For years I've been of the opinion that when I die, it would be alone. Now I find that I can't face it. I've never been bothered by a fear of death. It's been so much a part of the fabric of our lives that I haven't given it any special attention. I can't explain why this is different, but it is."

Kirk sighed deeply. "I must face an ugly truth. Lying here feeling your hands on my neck, I realize that I still want you to kill me. I would choose the certainty of death now at your hands over an uncertain, but short, future, followed by death alone, be it mercifully quick or agonizingly slow. And the ugly part is that I would choose it knowing what it would cost you to do that for me. Knowing it's not right, I would choose it anyway. The demons may have planted the idea, but it found fertile soil and grew."

"Is he really asking you again to kill him?" Chuck wanted to know.

"No. He is merely admitting to himself that he wants me to, in spite of the fact that he recognizes it as sin."

"Lord, I confess my sin. Thank you for showing me the condition of my heart. Forgive my sin, Lord; wash me clean. Change my heart, Lord, so that I want only what You desire for me. Perfect my trust in You, Lord. I want to trust You completely at the deepest levels of my heart, so that I don't need to be self-concerned. Forgive me, Lord, for wanting to choose the time and circumstances of my death, instead of trusting You to provide everything I need. Forgive me for wanting to sacrifice Spock in order to avoid dying alone, for putting my needs above his. And while we're at it, Lord, I ask You to forgive all the nasty, self-centered things I said to Spock, to Bones, and to Chuck. Help me repair the damage I have done to them.

"Bones, I said some pretty awful things to you, and I know they hurt. If there's anything I can do to make it right, please tell me. Meanwhile, if there is forgiveness in your heart, I would be very grateful not to have this come between us. Bones, can you forgive me for the hurt I have caused you? If the answer is 'yes', would you please touch me?"

With tears in his eyes, McCoy gripped Kirk's shoulder briefly but strongly.

"Thank you, Bones. Thank you." He turned his head as if he could see who was where. "Chuck, can you forgive me for what I did and said to you? I'm sure you didn't plan on a fight when you came in to observe."

Chuck also laid a hand on Kirk's shoulder.

"Thank you, Chuck. That means a lot to me." Unerringly, he focused on the third member of the party. "Spock, words are inadequate to describe what I have done to you. The pain you have suffered tonight is immeasurable. I know also that it is not lessened by the fact that you were prepared for this. And even now, though you cannot permit yourself to feel that pain, you know it is there.

"Spock, right now I choose to deny the desire to have you kill me. Would you please take your hands off my neck?"

Spock removed his hands without asking McCoy's permission, though he did glance at McCoy afterwards, and received a nod in response.

"Thank you. Now one step further. Would you get off my chest?" Spock complied. Kirk took a deep breath. "I choose to trust You, Lord. The moment I lost physical contact, I felt a wave of panic. The demons would dearly love to regain control. We'll deal with them in a few minutes. First, there's one other thing.

"Spock, I know that if I asked your forgiveness, your response would be based on input from your mind, without regard for the pain, which you're not feeling anyway. I wonder if you'd be willing to take Chuck to your quarters, let down your shields, and show him your pain. Then while you are feeling the pain, tell him whether you forgive me or not. If you're willing to do this, have Chuck squeeze my arm."

Spock looked gravely at Chuck. "I am willing."

Chuck squeezed Kirk's upper arm, knowing the forearm would still be useless.

"Thank you, Spock. Chuck, if you are willing to do this, squeeze my arm again." He did. "Okay, off you go, then. When you come back, squeeze my arm to let me know you're here." They left.

"Interesting, Bones. I can feel their footsteps and the air movement when the door opens. While they're gone, maybe you can satisfy my curiosity about this device. How long have you had it? Have you used it on anyone else? I'd be willing to bet you had it on yourself. For how long? And what happened?"

"How am I supposed to answer all those questions if you can't even hear me?"

"If I can reduce it to a series of yes/no questions, are you willing to at least try to talk to me? One squeeze for yes, two for no."

This conversation occupied them for some ten minutes, and they were both laughing when Chuck and Spock returned. Spock merely raised an eyebrow. Chuck looked flustered.

"Sorry." McCoy apologized. "I don't know who was cheering up who, but it worked. Craziest conversation I've ever had, but he's good at it."

"I'm not surprised," was Chuck's response. "I think Jim Kirk could adapt to _any_ situation." And he squeezed Kirk's arm.

"Ah, you're back. My apologies, gentlemen. Bones was telling me a story. You just missed the punch line. Bones, I'll wait if you want to tell it again."

McCoy squeezed twice. "No, it wouldn't be nearly as funny the second time."

"Okay, then, back to business. Chuck, I have a few questions. Did Spock show you his pain? One squeeze means 'yes', two means 'no'." Yes. "On a scale of 1-10, how awful was it? With 10 being very awful, and let's say what you experienced during the episode with my face would be about a 5. Number of squeezes equals number of points on the scale."

"That face episode was the worst emotional trauma of my life."

"Assume he knows it," was McCoy's advice. "What he's asking for is a comparison."

"It was much, much worse. I can't conceive of anything more awful, but I suppose it's theoretically possible." He slowly squeezed nine times, paused, then added a tenth.

"As in 9.9 - There must be something worse, but you don't know what?"

Chuck squeezed 'yes', amazed at Kirk's ability to interpret.

"Now, Chuck, I want you to picture in your mind Spock's agony, and answer this question honestly: In your opinion, based on what you saw, do I deserve Spock's forgiveness?" A quick, decisive no. "I agree completely. The all-important question is: Does Spock forgive me?" An emphatic yes. Kirk let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "Thank you, Spock. I want you to know that I don't take your forgiveness for granted. We've been here before, and I knew I could count on you to do what was necessary, but forgiving the pain is another matter altogether. I am grateful, Spock, very grateful.

"Now, demons, you must go. The sin has been brought to the light, confessed, forsaken, and forgiven. You have no more power over me. Demon of fear of being alone, demon of fear of dying alone, demon of fear of death, demon of fear, demon of death, by the authority of Jesus Christ, and by the power of His blood which covers my sin, I command you to leave me and never, ever return. Go to Jesus and do what He tells you."

Kirk felt a great weight lift off him, and the peace of the Lord flood his soul. "Hallelujah! Thank you, Jesus! They're gone, and this time, they won't be back. Bones, Spock, Chuck, thank you for helping me through this. I really appreciate it."

McCoy put his hands on Kirk's head, to turn him so he could remove the device.

"Wait, Bones. Spock, how long before we arrive at Outpost #67?" Spock squeezed his arm nine times. "Nine hours?" No. "You mean nine days!?" Yes. "Is there a problem with the ship?" No. "Has Young given you any explanation, then?" No. "Hm, curious. I should log a protest. I'll have to consider that. Anyway, that gives us plenty of time to play with.

"Bones, I'd like to borrow this toy of yours for the next day or so." No! "Well, 12 hours at least. After that, you can come take it off whenever it's convenient. Now Bones, don't start arguing with me - I can't hear you anyway. Just say 'yes'."

"Spock, what do you think? I can guess why; I'm just not sure I should let him."

"Is there a medical reason why it would be unwise?"

"Not really. The longer he wears it, the more gradual a transition he needs when I take it off. No, my concern is whether his soul can handle it."

"That is what he wishes to test. Would you deny him the opportunity to find out?"

"But if he can't, the consequences could be serious."

"If he cannot, he wishes to know that now, rather than in the middle of a crisis situation."

McCoy rocked back on his heels before giving in. "As usual, your logic is impeccable."

Spock acknowledged the victory with a nod, then offered a compromise. "I will stay to keep watch. He does not need to know that I am still here."

"He can feel the vibration of footsteps, and air movement when the door opens."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Kirk hadn't heard the argument. "If you've finished discussing it, I'm still waiting for an answer. The shortest explanation for why is this: to see if I can."

"Doctor," Chuck interrupted, "I have another concern. So far, he has given no indication of returning nerve function in the limbs. It's been well over thirty minutes. If he were responding normally, he should be screaming in pain by now. I'm afraid I may have done serious damage."

McCoy put one hand on Kirk's elbow and the other on his wrist. He lifted the wrist as if testing the arm's ability to move. Kirk understood immediately.

"You want a medical report on my injuries. Head wound superficial. Bleeding stopped. No sutures required. Mild headache. Extremities still non-functional. Permanent nerve damage unlikely. They haven't stopped hurting since Chuck first put them out of commission. It started getting worse about fifteen minutes ago. I anticipate full recovery within a matter of hours. In summary, stop worrying, Bones; I'll be fine."

McCoy pressed his finger into Kirk's arm, as if it were a hypo.

"Pain medication? Bones, you're joking. You know I hate that stuff. And I won't change my mind later. I'm under no illusions that it won't get a lot worse before it gets better. Something you can do, though, is get me a glass of water."

McCoy moved to get it, and Spock spoke to Chuck.

"You seem distressed. What is troubling you?"

"All that pain. He thinks he knows what it's going to be like, because he did something similar two days ago. But this is far worse. I went through this myself with just one arm, and it was four hours of the worst agony in my life. Multiplied times four, I can't even imagine. I didn't even think of this when I did it to him. All I thought about was getting free. Even when Dr. McCoy told me to do his legs too, I didn't think of it."

"If you had thought of it, would you have disobeyed the doctor's orders?"

"I don't know."

"Do you think Dr. McCoy sufficiently ignorant, that he was unaware of the effects on Jim of what you did?"

"When you put it that way, of course not. It's just that - " He took a deep breath. "I find the prospect of Jim hating me acutely uncomfortable."

"He will not hate you, but I can see you need that assurance directly from him."

Spock turned to Kirk, who had just finished chugging an entire glass of water.

"Thanks, Bones. That was wonderful!"

Spock placed a hand on Kirk's arm to get his attention. Then he began writing letters on Kirk's forehead. Kirk immediately grasped what Spock was doing, but he couldn't decipher the message.

"Sorry, Spock. It's too small. Try it again on my chest. A little slower, too." Spock did. "H - A - T - E - Hate?" Yes. "C - H - U - C - K - Chuck?" Yes. Spock finished with a question mark. "Do I hate Chuck?" Yes. "Of course not. Why would I?" Spock moved his hand down to Kirk's elbow. "Oh. My apologies, Chuck, for not anticipating how you would feel.

"Listen to me, Chuck. I do not hate you, nor will I two to four hours from now. Indeed, I am exceedingly grateful for what you did to me, notwithstanding my nasty comments at the time. You forced me to stop dealing with the externals, and face the real issues. Who knows how long I would have continued to chase you around this room, if you had not incapacitated me. I will recover from this a lot faster than from broken bones, which was the only other thing that would have stopped me. You were here at my invitation, doing what was necessary for my healing. I do not regret the pain price to be paid. Do you believe me?"

Chuck was silent for a long moment. "I believe that he believes it. I'm not convinced he won't change his mind in the next four hours."

Spock spelled to Kirk.

"C - H - A - N - G - E - Change?"

Yes. Spock tapped on Kirk's chest four times, then spelled, H - R - S.

"Hers?"

No.

"H - R - S. Oh, hours - four hours. Chuck thinks I'll change my mind in the next four hours."

Yes.

"Do you think I'll change my mind?"

No.

"But he doesn't believe you either. Chuck, I'm afraid you'll just have to wait and see. Come back and see me tomorrow sometime. And Chuck, I promise you this: if my heart has developed any bitterness towards you, I won't try to hide it. I'll get it out in the open where we can deal with it. Okay?"

Chuck nodded. 'Yes', Spock signaled.

"Now then, you all need to get out of here. Thank you again for all your help. Bones, 12 hours at least. More would be fine."

McCoy squeezed 'yes', and stood up to go. Chuck did likewise, and they moved to the door.

"Spock," Kirk spoke quietly for Spock's ears only. "It would be like you to stay and watch. If you do, I don't want to know about it. But promise me this: if you were to stay, there would be no intervention, no matter what happens."

Yes.

"Thanks, Spock. See you tomorrow."

Spock rose, and seated himself beside the door, prepared to remain motionless for hours. McCoy and Chuck left.

"Computer, this is Captain James T. Kirk in Cabin D-4. Security override on my voice print." Since he wasn't commanding the vessel anymore, this might not work, but it was worth a try anyway.

"Voice print identified. Proceed."

Apparently, the computer still considered him a competent officer. "Ignore any screams or cries for help from this cabin during the next four hours."

"Acknowledged."

Spock knew it was unlikely that Jim would scream. That wasn't his way of dealing with pain. Nonetheless, it was a precaution he himself would have taken. Kirk's next action came as no surprise either. He did not speak, but Spock watched him remove the barriers that blocked the pain. His breathing became ragged, and he started sweating. His face vividly displayed the agony he felt, but he made no sound, nor did he thrash about, fighting the pain.

That he lay quietly accepting the pain told Spock that the peace of the Lord was working. This was what Jim wanted to know. If he could accept the pain, and keep the peace of the Lord intact, without anyone around to help, then his healing was complete. Besides, after this, facing death would be easy. Maybe.

Over the course of the next two hours, Kirk's breathing became a series of ragged gasps. In rhythm with his breathing, Kirk repeatedly forced his body to relax. Twice the pain got so bad, he almost lost consciousness. But his stubborn will was working overtime.

At the beginning of the third hour, Kirk started working his hands and arms. The fourth hour he did the same to his legs and feet. That was followed by calisthenics to get his whole body working. Finally he took a shower. Spock took that opportunity to depart, confident that Jim could figure out how to operate the uniform and food replicators by touch.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Spock reported to the Bridge at 0645, as was his custom. The day began normally enough, that is, as normal as a day could be without Jim Kirk in the center seat. Sullivan was the only observer on the Bridge that morning. Captain Young was on the Bridge for about two hours, seeming restless with nothing to do. He left the Bridge at 0900, saying he would be in his office.

A few minutes before 1100, Spock observed his sensors picking up an unusual phenomenon approaching at high speed. It did not appear to be a ship, but rather a large electric field of some kind. There was no time to react. The field was upon them, passed through and was gone, before Spock could even press the red alert button. The damage it left behind was considerable.

Spock's eyes were intent on his viewer when the field hit. He was blinded by an intense white light, caused apparently by a massive power surge. The unit could not withstand the surge and exploded, showering his face with tiny glass fragments. He fell backwards onto the floor. Fighting to retain consciousness, he struggled to his feet, felt his way to the center seat and sat down.

"Uhura, report, please." His voice was not quite as calm as he wished.

Her voice sounded like it came from the floor. "I - I think I'm all right, sir, except that I can't see. The light was blinding."

"Thank you. Stay where you are for the moment. Mr. Sulu?"

"Same thing, sir. I'm okay except for the eyes." Sulu also spoke from the floor.

"Mr. Chekov?"

"Likevise, sir."

"Is there anyone presently on the Bridge who has the use of their eyes?"

"Me, sir." The voice came from behind him. "It's Yeoman Rish, sir. I was cleaning the head, sir."

"Yeoman, is there anyone on the Bridge who appears to be unconscious?"

"Yes, sir. It's Lt. C'dore Sullivan, sir. I'm checking now, sir. Yes, he is breathing."

"Leave him for now. Anyone else?"

"No, sir."

"Yeoman Rish, please assist Commander Uhura. You will have to be her eyes. I need communication with the rest of the ship."

"Yes, sir." As she passed Spock, she glanced at his face and gasped.

"Do not distress yourself, Yeoman. I am functional. Is there anyone else on the Bridge with similar wounds?"

"Not that I can see, sir."

"Then carry on. Mr. Sulu, please give me an assessment of your ability to man the helm without your eyesight."

Sulu felt his way back into his chair and turned it to face the sound of Spock's voice. "Well, sir, if we were about to die anyway, I'd give it a shot, but the controls are not designed to be operated blind. Besides, from the feel of it, we're not going anywhere very soon anyway."

"I concur that we seem to be without power."

Uhura and Rish reached a joint conclusion. "Comm board's dead, Mr. Spock."

"Acknowledged. Yeoman, does any of the Bridge instrumentation appear to be functioning?"

"No, sir. Everything's dark, sir. We do have emergency lights. Life support and gravity too, sir."

"Yes, thank you. That is not an insignificant blessing." He asked the next question. "Who else is on the Bridge?"

A voice came from the upper left. "Lt. Burns, sir. I'm in the same shape as the others, sir."

"Anyone else?"

"That's everyone, sir." It was Yeoman Rish.

Spock addressed the group. "I need an honest assessment of your condition. Are you all indeed functional, except for the eyes, or do you need to get to Sickbay? And, can I send you on errands, even though you are blind?" His own condition was manageable as long as he didn't have to move.

Sulu answered first. "With all due respect sir, I heard Rish gasp when she walked past you. I suspect your idea of functional would not meet with Dr. McCoy's approval. Respectfully request you leave the conn to me and get yourself to Sickbay."

"Request noted, and denied. We have no idea of the level of injuries throughout the ship. Mine can wait." There was little the doctor could do for him, but they didn't need to know that.

"It is unlikely that Sickbay can do anything about our eyes anyvay, except tell us to get some rest. This is no time for resting," was Chekov's opinion.

"I know this ship like the back of my hand, sir. I won't get lost. Where do you want to send me?" Burns offered.

"To Mr. Scott in Engineering, Lieutenant. Tell him we're blind and deaf up here. We need communications, functioning instruments, and engine power, in that order. Then assist Mr. Scott as needed. You do not need to report back here."

"Yes, sir." Burns left by way of the access ladder.

"Mr. Chekov, get to Sickbay and report Bridge injuries. And I need a report on ship-wide injuries."

"Yes, sir." Chekov left.

"Mr. Sulu, find Captain Young. He should have been here by now, if he were able. Last known position: his office, Captain Kirk's former quarters. If injured, get him to Sickbay. If uninjured, report the situation and offer to escort him to the Bridge. He may be unfamiliar with the access tunnels.

"If Captain Young is injured and unable to take command, find Captain Kirk and tell him I request his presence on the Bridge. He is probably in his quarters, Cabin D-4. However, if he is still wearing a metal band over his eyes and ears, you will have to take him to Dr. McCoy before he can hear or see you. The doctor is the only one who can remove the device."

"Yes, sir. I'll restrain my curiosity until the crisis is over." Sulu left.

"Ms. Uhura, are you in need of Sickbay?"

"No, sir. I can start setting up a message relay, if you don't need anything else."

"By all means. However, I have no idea what personnel might be available."

"I'll find out as I go, sir." Uhura left.

"Yeoman, please attend the Lt. C'dore, until a medic team arrives. If he regains consciousness, explain the situation and attempt to keep him lying still. If I lose consciousness, you are to remain on the Bridge until relieved by someone of sufficient rank to do so. Should communications be restored, do you know how to operate the Bridge intercom?"

"Yes, sir, I do."

"Very good. Any questions?"

"Can I get you anything? A glass of water, even?"

"Yes, that would be appreciated. I have lost sufficient blood to be dehydrated."

xxxx

It took Sulu more than five minutes to get to Captain Young's office. His progress was frustratingly slow, and he knew the Captain used to make that distance regularly in under two minutes. When he arrived, there was no response to the door buzzer. Finding it unlocked, he opened and entered.

"Captain Young, are you here?"

There was no response. He took a few cautious steps into the room, not sure of how Young had rearranged the furniture. He ran into the desk, and felt his way around it. He discovered Young with his foot. He was lying on the floor, unconscious. Sulu retreated and crossed the corridor to the Captain's personal quarters. The door buzzer was answered immediately.

"Are you ladies all right in here? Any injuries?"

"No, we are fine. What has happened?"

"We may eventually find out, but the ship was hit with something powerful enough to knock out almost all systems. The Bridge crew has all been blinded - we hope, temporarily."

"Oh, so you cannot see me?"

"That's right, ma'am. The Captain was in his office across the corridor here. I came looking for him and found him on the floor unconscious. Can you come?"

"Yes, of course. Gisa?" she called. "Husband is hurt. Come."

They accompanied him back to the office. They found facial wounds and a large bump on the back of his head.

"Do you see anything that could have caused the wounds?"

"The desk screen is broken. Flying glass may be the cause of these face wounds." Her voice wavered in uncertainty. "I'm afraid to try and clean them."

"Don't touch them. If there's glass embedded in his face, we could make it a lot worse. Do either of you know how to reach Sickbay from here, without using the lift?"

"I'm not even sure I could find it via the lift. Gisa is the explorer. I'll stay here."

"I know that Sickbay is on Deck 8, three levels below this one. But I have no idea how to get there without using the lift." Gisa's voice sounded younger - not exactly excited, but confident rather than anxious.

Sulu described the layout of the ship with regard to the access tunnels and the location of Sickbay. He escorted Gisa to the tunnel on the far side, the near one being reserved for stretchers only. Actually she led him. He could sense her frustration at his slow pace.

"We could go faster if you lead. I have to count doorways to know where I am."

"You are not permitted to touch me, but if you will close your hand, I will take your arm," Gisa offered.

"Certainly. Stop when you get to the lift door."

He expected a faster walk, or even a jog, but she grabbed his wrist and took off on a dead run. He was so startled, he almost lost his footing before adjusting to her pace. Running blind down a corridor being led by a Morenan female was an interesting experience. But Sulu had little time to contemplate it, because they were there in less than a minute. He located the access hatch, showed Gisa how to open and close it from both sides, and sent her on her way.

Returning to the Captain's office much more slowly, Sulu reflected that Gisa was quick and intelligent. And neither of the ladies had panicked at the situation. His estimate of Captain Young rose. He certainly had picked competent women. Back in the Captain's office, he asked Nona if there was any change.

"No, but I do not expect him to regain consciousness until well after these wounds are treated. We Morenans are extremely sensitive. Our tolerance of pain, therefore, is very low."

"I see. Since the Captain will be out of commission for awhile then, I have other duties to perform. Will you be all right until the medical team gets here?"

"Certainly. I do not need you to stay."

Sulu went in search of Cabin D-4. Fortunately, the cabin number plates were slightly embossed. He wished he could run down the corridor without an escort. And he probably could, but he would almost certainly overshoot his target, and he might run into someone. This was slow, but safer. Here was D-8; D-4 should be two doors down.

He rang the buzzer and got no response. The door was unlocked, so he pushed the override button, and entered.

"Captain Kirk? Are you in here?"

"Who's there?"

"It's me, Sulu. Can I come in?"

"If you're looking for the injured, I'm fine. Don't waste time on me. I'll find out what's going on later."

The voice was definitely that of Captain Kirk, so Sulu slowly made his way around the edge of the room.

"Spock needs you, Captain. The Bridge crew are all blind, and Captain Young is unconscious. I'm sorry I can't see you, but if you'll keep talking, I'll get you located."

"Why do I have the feeling you didn't believe me, and you're still here. Well, if you are, come on over, and sit next to me on the bed."

Sulu had just reached the bed, so he sat.

"I can neither see nor hear you, so if you want to talk to me, there are two ways. Squeeze my arm once for yes, twice for no. You can spell short messages on my chest. So for starters, who are you? Spell your name please."

Sulu guessed on the location of Kirk's chest.

"S-U-L-U Sulu! You would have believed me. Besides, you wouldn't be on medical clean-up crew anyway. So you're here for some other reason. What is it?"

Sulu began spelling.

"S-P-O-C-K Spock, S-E-N-T sent, M-E me. Spock sent you. Where's Captain Young? I-N-J-U-R-E-D injured. So Spock's in charge. What does he want? B-R-I-D-G-E Bridge, C-R-E-W crew, B-L-I-N-D blind. Bridge crew blind, as in, can't see?"

Yes.

"You too?"

Yes.

"I thought you were being a little tentative. What about Spock? Is he blind too?"

Yes.

"I-N-J-U-R-E-D injured. Blind, injured, but still conscious, and he won't leave the Bridge to get medical care."

Yes.

"Can he hold on long enough for me to get rid of this device on my head?"

Yes.

"As in, he thinks so."

Yes.

"Do you know where Dr. McCoy is?"

No.

"Let's hope he's in Sickbay. If I can't find him, I'll come to the Bridge anyway. Anything else?"

No.

"Tell Spock I'll get there as fast as I can."

Kirk rose, walked briskly and unerringly to the door, which opened before him. Sulu heard him begin to jog down the corridor. Incredible, he thought, blind and deaf! Well, if he can do it, so can I. He strode towards the door, but ran into the wall. Well, maybe not. Deciding prudence was better than foolhardiness, Sulu made his careful way back to the Bridge. When he arrived, Chekov was giving his report.

"Dr. McCoy refuses to estimate the number of injuries. He hasn't heard anything from Engineering yet. Most of the injuries are similar to vhat ve've had up here. He's turning avay anybody who's just blind. Says come back tomorrow if it's still a problem. He's more than got his hands full vith facial injuries from exploded monitors. Is that vhat happened to you, sir?"

"Yes."

"That's what happened to Captain Young too," Sulu reported. "He was unconscious when I found him. I sent one wife to Sickbay to get help. The other told me that the Captain wouldn't recover consciousness for some time. So I went to Captain Kirk's quarters. I explained the situation briefly. He left to find Dr. McCoy in Sickbay. Said if he couldn't find him, he'd come to the Bridge anyway."

"Thank you both." Spock paused. "I'm concerned about the lack of a report from Engineering. I would like to send one of you for information. I cannot send both of you. Any volunteers?"

"I'm pretty slow, sir. Maybe you'd get information faster if you sent Chekov."

"I don't mind going, but I don't know that I'm any faster than Sulu. Maybe Uhura has found enough uninjured personnel to set up her message relay."

"Possibly. In any event, Mr. Chekov, would you endeavor to get us a report from Engineering?"

"Yes, sir."

"Yeoman Rish, would you please accompany Mr. Chekov? Be his eyes. Mr. Sulu, you and I will hold the Bridge. And Rish, if you find any Bridge crewmen with the use of their eyes, send them to the Bridge."

"Yes, sir." Chekov and Rish followed the medics carrying Sullivan off the Bridge.

"Mr. Spock, if we have nothing else to do, would you mind telling me, what is that device Captain Kirk is wearing? Why is he wearing it, and how can he function so well?"

"How do you mean?"

"Well, when I first got there, I couldn't even tell that he couldn't hear me. The content of what he said didn't match what I said very well, but the pauses were all in the right places. Then when I reached the bed, he told me he couldn't see or hear. With a couple of brief instructions, he told me how to talk to him. In less than five minutes, he had all the information he needed, and he left. He knew exactly where the door was, and he took off down the corridor at a jog." Sulu's voice betrayed his incredulity at Kirk's latest stunt. "How did he know he wouldn't run into anybody?"

"He didn't. If he had, he would have been running flat out, not jogging. The method of communication was worked out last night through a process of trial and error. Three of us managed to converse with him for several hours. He is a very good guesser concerning what others are trying to communicate. We did not have to resort to spelling words until the evening was almost over.

"The device is called a sensory deprivation unit. Dr. McCoy said it was designed for use in training those who have to work with the blind and deaf. But that is not what we were using it for."

Spock told Sulu all about the events of the previous evening. Both knew that it was not necessary to secure Kirk's permission. There were no secrets among them. Everything was shared openly.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Kirk managed to jog all the way to the access tunnel without running into anyone. _A minor miracle_, he thought. There didn't seem to be anyone manning the hatch on this deck. That did not bode well for the number of injuries. He began climbing down the ladder, counting rungs as he went. 34-35-36. This should be Deck 8.

He pounded on the door, worked the lever and swung the door open. Hands helped him into the corridor. Ah, so this hatch was manned.

"Is Dr. McCoy in Sickbay? Squeeze my arm once for yes, twice for no."

Yes.

"Thank you. Is the corridor between here and there unobstructed?"

No.

"In that case, can you provide me with a sighted escort?"

No.

"What is the nature of the obstruction? Spell it on my chest. P-E-O-P-L-E people. injured people?"

Yes.

"On stretchers?"

No.

"B-L-I-N-D blind. blind and deaf?"

No.

"Just blind. Waiting to get into Sickbay?"

No.

"No? T-U-R-N-E-D A-W-A-Y turned away?"

Yes.

"And they're hanging around here because they can't see to do anything else."

Yes.

"Do you yourself have sight?"

Yes.

"How many people are there? 1-0-0-+ over a hundred?"

Yes.

"Are they talking?"

Yes.

"Can you get their attention for me? Squeeze my arm when it's quiet."

Pause. Yes.

"Gentlemen. This is Captain Kirk. I understand you have all been deprived of sight. At the present time, I can neither see nor hear you. But as long as you can hear me, we'll manage. I understand Sickbay is too crowded right now, so I'd like to move you all to the Rec Deck. We need to get this corridor cleared.

"I need about ten of you for team leaders. Rank is irrelevant here. I need people who are basically comfortable with the lack of sight. You also have to be able to accurately count the 84 ladder rungs between here and Deck 15. So that we can maneuver better, I'd like you to move away from the inner wall. Give me about two feet of clear walkway along the inner edge. Now I need someone with a nice clear voice about halfway back to repeat everything I just said, so everyone hears what's going on."

While he waited, Kirk asked the sighted man next to him if there was enough room to gather the team leaders in front of him. The answer was yes, but he felt him move away, so he guessed that space was being made by asking people to move back.

"Now will those who want to volunteer as team leaders please move to the inner wall and come up here. Will my sighted assistant here please let me know when the leaders are gathered." He waited several minutes.

Yes.

"How many of you are there? 1-2 Twelve. That's good. Each of you will be assigned ten people. You're responsible to see that they get to the Rec Deck, and to take care of them after you get there. Talk to them; get their fears out in the open; play games. I have no idea how long this crisis will last, but before it's over, we may need to press many of you into duty. Find out what your people can do, and be prepared to report it. Any questions?" He paused for several minutes, waiting.

Finally, a squeeze on his arm.

"C-A-N can. Just give me the key words, or we'll be here too long. G-O go, Q-T-R-S quarters. What if some want to go to their quarters?"

Yes.

"Maybe later. Right now, no. I want you all in one place. Other questions? H-O-W how, D-O do, L-A-D-D-E-R ladder, B-L-I-N-D blind. How do you get your group down the ladder?"

Yes.

"Instruct your people to put a hand on the ankle of the person above them if you stop. Other than that, take it slow and steady. Help them through the hatch at the far end, and count noses. One other thing: choose an assistant leader to bring up the rear. Any other questions? O-T-H-E-R other, T-R-A-F-F-I-C traffic. We'll take a break between groups to allow other traffic through. So some of you may be stuck in this corridor for quite a while yet. Anything else?"

No.

"Okay. I need one of you to be a head team leader. Your responsibilities would include locating each group on the Rec Deck as they arrive, coordinating communications between team leaders, and troubleshooting problems that arise. Do I have any volunteers?"

Yes.

"3 Three of you?"

Yes.

"What are your names? S-P-I-K-E-S Spikes. Lt. George Spikes, Security?"

Yes.

"J-I-M-S-O-N Jimson, Robert Jimson, Science?"

Yes.

"T-A-N-I-S Tanis, Lt. John Tanis, Command Track?"

Yes.

"A hard choice, gentlemen. You would all be more than competent. Tanis, I'm going to put you in charge. Use Spikes and Jimson as assistants, but I'm going to give them each a team. Spikes, your team will go first; Jimson, second. Tanis, once you know who all the team leaders are, you can go on down. Can the rest of you handle it without me from here on out?"

Yes.

"T-H-A-N-K-S thanks. You're welcome. I'm headed to Sickbay then. Is that inner wall still clear?"

Yes.

"Thanks for all your help." Kirk put a hand on the man's shoulder briefly. Then he strode down the corridor, being careful to stay close to the inner wall.

Sickbay itself was in organized chaos. He could smell it. Assuming there were sighted people in the vicinity, he simply waited to be noticed. Within two minutes, someone was gently trying to usher him back out the door.

"I cannot hear you, but I can guess what you're saying. I know you're very busy in here. But I have an urgent message for Dr. McCoy." She paused. At least it smelled and felt like a she. "Tell him Kirk is here. Ask him if he has time for me. If the answer is no, I'll go away. But I'll be much more useful to this ship if he can take this thing off my head." She left and returned a few minutes later. Escorting him to McCoy's office, she sat him in a chair. Then she started spelling into the palm of his hand.

"The chest works better. The letters are bigger. D-R doctor, C-O-M-E come, S-O-O-N soon. Thanks very much for your help." She patted his arm and left.

Bones arrived about five minutes later. He pressed a few buttons on the back of the metal band and Kirk felt it loosen.

"Jim, can you hear me?"

"Yes."

"Given how long you had this on, I should take thirty minutes for your eyes to adjust. Neither of us has that much time. Keep your eyes closed." McCoy removed the device. "Now open them. Do you see anything?"

"Faint outline of you, Bones. Must be some light leaking around your office door."

"Okay. Lights level one."

"Oo- I see what you mean." Kirk squinted and blinked rapidly, willing his eyes to adjust quickly.

McCoy started talking, just to keep Kirk stationary for a few minutes. "Most of the ship is on emergency lighting, but not Sickbay, and maybe not Engineering. It worries me that we haven't heard from Engineering yet. With everything else I've seen, I can't believe they don't have any injuries. With half my staff on the injured list, I haven't got the manpower to handle what's here, much less go check out Engineering. We're down to three doctors, and we've got a dozen cases requiring surgery, including Captain Young who was just brought in. Spock's still on the Bridge, and he might as well stay there. It'll be hours before I can get to him anyway.

"Well, enough about my problems. How are the eyes now?"

"Better. Sounds like I should head for Engineering instead of the Bridge."

"Chekov said nothing was working up there anyway. Let me give you a few warnings about those eyes, however. When you overwork them - and don't tell me you won't - you're likely to experience any of the following: excess tearing, red or black spots, sharp pains, or dull, persistent headache. And they may even simply quit on you. In contrast, the ears will work, although you may experience ringing for several hours. By the way, how are the hands and feet?"

"They're fine, and the peace of the Lord is intact."

"Praise God! Well, I'd better get back to work. See you."

McCoy left. Kirk screwed his eyes shut as the door opened, but not quite fast enough. It was clear he would have to get from here to the corridor with his eyes tightly closed. Strange how what seemed easy a few minutes ago, now seemed difficult. _Oh well_, he thought, _a Captain must always boldly go..._

He made it to the corridor in ten strides, one hand over his eyes. He managed to resist the temptation to put the other hand out to avoid running into anything. And he didn't collide with anything or anyone.

The lights in the corridor were tolerable. He set about finding a courier to send a message to Spock. One of the team leaders volunteered.

"At the rate we're going, my team's going to be here another hour. That's plenty of time to get to the Bridge and back. What's the message?"

"Tell Spock to hold the fort. I'm headed to Engineering. Also, no argument from Bones. Got that?"

"Yes, sir. I'm on my way."

Kirk started down. It was a long ways to Engineering on foot. There was a landing to rest on every five decks. On Deck 20 he caught up with Chekov and Rish. On Deck 25, they met Lt. Burns headed up.

"Captain Kirk! I'm on my way back to the Bridge to report to Mr. Spock, sir."

"You have a report from Engineering?"

"No, sir. Decompression hatch is closed. I can't get through."

"We've sprung a leak? I don't recall any sense of structural damage."

"There's another possibility, sir. Contamination of some kind. They may have closed the hatch to keep it from spreading."

"Okay. Let's head to the Hangar Deck. Burns, take my hand. Rish, you've got Chekov? Let's move."

He led the way at a jog. It took Kirk only a few minutes to discover that none of the shuttlecraft were in working order. Amazingly six communicators that had been stored in a fireproof box seemed to be working. But Kirk tried in vain to raise anybody. Either these were the only working communicators on the ship, or nobody else was transmitting.

"Anybody know where Uhura is?"

"She vas to set up a message relay system, but I haven't seen her since she left the Bridge, sir. That is to say, -" He stopped and cleared his throat.

Kirk rescued him. "I know what you mean. She's blinded too?"

"Yes, sir."

"Okay. Chekov, can you make it back to the Bridge without Rish?"

"Certainly, sair." His voice conveyed mild outrage at having to be asked.

"Good. Take two communicators. Give one to Sickbay; take the other to the Bridge. Rish, you take a third communicator; locate Uhura, and give it to her; then assist her as needed. Since we have the communicators, I'd like her to concentrate instead on accounting for all personnel. Without shipwide communication, we need a manual search of all decks. Sickbay has their hands full with those they've got. And who knows what I'll find in Engineering. Any questions? Keep me posted. Thanks. Burns, let's check out the E-suits."

They found them all intact, but their jetpacks were not working, nor were the radios. Also the oxygen circulation and temperature controls were dead. How long would the oxygen in the suit itself last? Maybe ten minutes. Could he get from here to Engineering in ten minutes, with cable and magnetic boots? Not if he walked. He would have to dive. And it would have to be right the first time: right trajectory, right speed. There was no room for mistakes. There would be neither oxygen nor warmth for a second try.

Kirk asked Burns to tie a communicator into the helmet of one of the suits, while he went in search of a cable of sufficient length. Then he gave a communicator to Burns, and put the last one in a pocket of the suit. He told Burns what he planned to do.

"If you have not heard from me in ten minutes, report to Spock on the Bridge. Do not, I repeat, do _not_ come after me. Is that understood?" He had no intention of losing Burns to the same stunt he was about to try.

"Yes, sir." Burns clearly wasn't happy, but he would obey orders.

Kirk cycled through the airlock and attached one end of the cable to a ring provided for the purpose. As he gazed out at his destination, he was aware that his estimate of the available air was much too generous. Mentally cutting his time in half, he decided a fast dive was his only option. He set himself, gauged his trajectory, and took off, the cable trailing behind him.

During the seconds it took him to make the distance, he had little time to ponder the difficulties of a fast approach. It was possible that there would be damage on impact. More likely he would simply bounce off before having any opportunity to secure himself to the hull.

And that is exactly what happened. He landed spread-eagled, and bounced off. His hand just missed contact with an extruding metal bar, one of a series designed for hand-over-hand travel on the hull exterior. As he flailed around in frustration at his failure, he prayed.

_Lord, I could use a miracle about now._

Suddenly he heard a mental voice, loud and clear.

_Stop!_

Instantly he stopped moving. Turning his head slightly, he saw that the cable had become entangled in one of the metal bars. Pulling on it very gently, he drew himself toward the hull. As his hand came within reach of the bar, the cable pulled free.

His hand firmly grasping the bar, he paused and tried to take a deep breath. His chest was tight with the lack of oxygen. Precious few moments remained to secure the cable to the airlock ring. As he quickly made his way there, Kirk breathed a silent _Thank you, Lord_. Suddenly realization came that he had actually heard the Lord speak. _Double thank you, Lord! I knew You could punch through the interference, but it's reassuring to have it proved_.

He reached the airlock, attached the cable to the ring, and started cycling through the airlock. But he felt himself losing consciousness before the cycle was complete, so he cracked the seal on the helmet and tried to take it off. There was a two-inch gap at the bottom of the helmet as he collapsed to the floor.

When Kirk came to, he was lying on the floor of the airlock. Hoping he had only been out for a few seconds, he contacted Burns.

"Kirk to Burns."

"Yes, Captain."

"The cable is secured. I am in the airlock, about to enter the interior."

"I'm relieved to hear that, Captain. Time was almost up."

"I'll keep you posted. Kirk out."

Kirk took the helmet off, removed the communicator, and opened the airlock door. No one was in the room he entered, so he took off the rest of the suit, extracting the other communicator, and began to explore. Emergency lighting prevailed everywhere he went. Breathing deeply, he smelled nothing unusual, so if there was an air-borne contaminant, it was odorless. And he seemed to suffer no immediate ill-effects from breathing it, so he dismissed the air as a problem, at least for the moment.

"Burns, air seems to be fine. Same emergency lighting as in the primary hull. So far, no personnel to be seen."

"Captain, I have contact with Mr. Spock, if you wish to transfer to channel 3."

"Thanks, Burns. I'll get back to you. Kirk out."

"Kirk to Spock."

"Yes, Captain. I understand you have reached the secondary hull." His voice conveyed the usual calm control, but that didn't necessarily mean much.

"The air seems fine, but there's no personnel in sight. How are you holding up? Can I stay long enough to find out what's going on, or do you need me on the Bridge?"

"It is unlikely that I will lose consciousness, but even if I did, the solution to our present difficulties clearly lies in Engineering, not on the Bridge."

"Agreed. I'll keep you posted. Kirk out."

xxxx

Rish found Uhura on the ladder between Decks 30 and 29.

"Uhura. It's me, Rish. I have a communicator for you and new orders. Captain Kirk would like you to account for all personnel."

"Captain Kirk? Where's Captain Young then?"

"Sickbay. He's injured and unconscious. Chekov took a communicator to Sickbay, and another one to the Bridge. Captain Kirk's trying to get to Engineering using E-suits. He's afraid there may be injured personnel who haven't been found. Sickbay is overworked just handling what's been brought to them."

"Account for all personnel. Spock's the only one who's got a complete list of personnel in his head." Attaching the communicator to her belt, Uhura began descending the ladder.

"You should be able to reach him by communicator within ten minutes or so. I don't know how long it will take Chekov to climb to the Bridge."

"Okay, let's start here at the bottom."


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Kirk encountered no one until he reached the corridor in front of the main entrance to the Engineering department. There he found five men gathered before the closed door. They looked up at his approach.

"Captain Kirk!"

"At ease, gentlemen. What's the status?"

"We're trying to communicate with the Chief by using Morse Code. It's not working very well."

"Scotty's on the other side of this door?"

"Sometimes, sir. The messages are sporadic. I think he keeps getting interrupted." By what, he didn't say.

Kirk probed for information. "What can you tell me about the situation in there?"

"Very little, sir. I got here within minutes after we were hit, and found the door locked. Every time we get his attention, he tells us to stay out."

"You're certain it's Scotty you're talking to?"

"Yes, sir. I asked him."

"If he's been in there all this time, does he seem any weaker now than before?"

"No, sir." No hesitation.

"How many men are in there would you estimate?"

"About twenty, sir."

"Can you account for the other eighty?"

"There's twenty or so injured with open wounds from flying glass. They're in Auxiliary Sickbay, but we can't do more than first aid. Approximately thirty more are blinded by monitors that didn't explode, but gave off a tremendous burst of white light. We've got them gathered in the mess hall. There's twenty of us that are uninjured. That leaves maybe ten unaccounted for. They're up in the primary hull, I hope."

"Okay. See if you can raise Scotty again. Tell him I want to talk to him."

The man with the wrench began pounding again.

"Sir, may I ask how you got here? We're sealed off from the primary hull."

"E-suit. We've strung a cable from airlock 7 to 12."

"You found a working E-suit then? Ours are all non-functional."

"This one had no fuel, air, or heat. I got here by the grace of God."

Pounding from the other side of the door interrupted this conversation.

"I have Mr. Scott, sir."

"Ask him what the contaminant is."

"Yes, sir." Pounding, then answering pounding.

"Unknown, sir."

"What are the symptoms?" More pounding.

"Loss of consciousness, followed by blindness and deafness."

"No deaths?" Pounding.

"No, sir."

"Is he blind and deaf too?" Pounding.

"No, sir."

"What about the airlock entrance?"

"We talked about that before, sir. We could only use it once. Anybody who goes in stays in. So far, Mr. Scott says 'no'."

"Has he checked for all known contaminants?" Pounding.

"Yes, sir. All negative."

"What about repairs?" Pounding.

"Depends on the dilithium crystals."

"How long will it take him to find out?" Pounding.

"Depends on how many come to and get hysterical."

"I'll wait." Pounding.

"Meanwhile, Jones, get me an accurate list of all able-bodied personnel. Name and present location. Sewell, get me an assessment of all the E-suits we've got, including the one I used to get here. How many are there and in what condition? Picone, prepare a report on the injured. Who, how badly, and can they be moved?"

"Yes, sir." They departed.

"Kirk to Sickbay."

"Chapel here, sir."

"Here's the situation in Engineering. We've got about thirty blind, and twenty with other injuries. I'm getting you a more detailed report on those. But here's my real question. The twenty crewmen in the main engineering room were knocked unconscious, then woke both blind and deaf. Is there any contaminant that could have caused this, and yet left Scotty unaffected? He may have entered the room right after we were hit, but he's been in there ever since."

"None that I know of, but I'll ask Dr. McCoy."

She was back a few minutes later with a negative reply from McCoy.

"Okay, thanks. I'll get back to you on the details of the injured. Kirk out."

Scotty was back with the news that the vault had protected the spare crystals.

"Ask him how long repairs will take if he has to do all the work himself." Pounding.

"About two weeks, sir."

"Not practical. Tell him to open the door. My responsibility." Pounding.

"He can't, sir. It's sealed tight. Insufficient power to move it."

"How many will the airlock hold?"

"Standing, five or six easily. But with a stretcher, not more than three."

At that moment, Jones returned with the able-bodied list. In addition to the five who'd been here at the door, there were five in the mess hall with the blind, and nine in Sickbay with the injured.

"Tell Scotty he's about to get 18 crewmen, and I'll give him 48 hours max for repairs." Pounding.

"He says, 'Aye, Cap'n.'"

"Jones, which of those in Sickbay is the best medic?"

"That'd be Forest, sir."

"Okay, he's the one I'm keeping. The rest of you are headed into the main engineering room. You'll go in three groups of six. I want that airlock full each time you use it. Babbs, you take charge of the airlock. Jenkins, take this communicator to Scotty. Get all 18 in before transferring any wounded out. I'll let you know when I'm ready to start receiving the blind and deaf. Let me know if you have any stretcher cases. Jones, stay here and wait for Sewell and Picone. Tell them I went to the mess hall. Any questions? Let's move."

Kirk arrived at the mess hall a few minutes later, and sent the five sighted crewmen to Babbs at the airlock.

"Now, I understand the rest of you are all lacking your sight at the moment. Over a hundred of your colleagues in the primary hull have the same problem. Sickbay isn't doing anything for them either, so I see no point in trying to get you there. So for now, you stay here. I do have some jobs for you to do, however. This is not vacation time.

"First, I want to divide you into two groups. Group One is made up of those who feel pretty helpless without their eyesight. They're not entirely sure they wouldn't get lost between here and main engineering. And the idea of running down the corridor blind leaves you in a cold sweat.

"Group Two on the other hand is basically comfortable with the lack of sight. There are certain things you can't do, of course, but blindness is a nuisance rather than completely debilitating. Before you put yourself in Group Two, consider this: someone's life may depend on your ability to avoid getting disoriented.

"So, by a show of hands, which of you are in Group Two?"

Six people raised their hands.

"Thank you. Will Group 2 please line up in the corridor." He watched carefully how they moved and was satisfied. "Group 1, I'll be back in a few minutes. Don't think I have nothing for you to do."

Out in the corridor, he addressed Group 2.

"I'm sending you to Sickbay. Forest is in charge. You are to relieve the other eight sighted personnel. They are then to report to Babbs at the airlock into main engineering. I don't know yet whether we are going to move the injured or not. Wait, here comes my report from Sickbay.

"Picone, what have you got?"

"Forest says he's done everything he can do. He doesn't really need those eight guys he's got, if you have something else for them to do. He's not too happy about moving the injured. About half would make it okay. The other half - without proper equipment - well, it'd be dangerous."

"By proper equipment, he means anti-grav stretchers, IV's, and medical escort. No airlocks, E-suits, and vacuums to deal with."

"That's right, sir. But he also said several of them need surgery and soon. And he doesn't know if we have enough power to run both auxiliary and main Sickbay."

"Exactly how many stretcher cases has he got?"

"Seven, sir. Then there's five more that are sort of ambulatory, but any E-suit they put on will be a bloody mess when they're done with it. There's nine more with relatively minor injuries, but only three of those have their sight."

"Okay, I've got the picture. Hold on a minute."

"Kirk to Sickbay."

"Chapel here, sir."

"I've got at least seven stretcher cases requiring immediate surgery. Engineering doesn't think there's enough power to do the surgeries here. Can you provide us with a med-evac sled for exterior use? And a medic escort from airlock 7?"

"The sled, yes. To airlock 7. I don't know about the personnel."

"Call Uhura. She may be able to help."

"Yes, sir. Chapel out."

"Picone, get back to Sickbay. Send those eight men to Babbs at the airlock to main engineering. Tell Forest to get those seven stretcher cases ready for transport."

"Yes, sir." And he was gone.

"Group 2, belay previous orders. Get to Sickbay and transport three of those stretcher cases to airlock 12. I'll meet you there."

Kirk returned to the mess hall.

"Your attention, Group1. Which of you are the administrative types?" Four hands went up. "And is there anyone here who's studied game theory?" One hand. "Okay, will you that raised your hands come up here please?"

He watched them move, mentally rating their level of competence.

His communicator beeped. "Kirk here."

"It's Scotty, Cap'n. Jenkins said ye wanted a report on the wounded. I've got two stretcher cases, four more that are ambulatory, and 15 that are merely blind and deaf. Two of those want to stay. Most are coping, just barely. Three got hysterical, and I'm afraid I knocked them out. I didn't know what else to do, sir."

"The two that want to stay - could you use them?"

"If I could talk to them, I think so. A lot of our work is by feel anyway."

"I'll send you two blind interpreters. See how it goes. If it's not working, you can always kick them out."

"Aye, sir. I'll give it a try. Scott out."

"Kirk to Sickbay."

"Chapel, sir."

"Increase to nine stretcher cases."

"Yes, sir. And Uhura says she can provide the personnel."

"Good. Call Burns at airlock 7 and tell him what's going on. And if Uhura can find somebody to bring me that sled, it'll save me a trip. Kirk out."

Kirk turned to the room at large.

"Anybody in here have any experience working with the blind and deaf?" No response.

"How many of you are proficient in Morse code?"

A dozen hands went up.

"Of those whose hands are up, how many of you are good at reducing a sentence to a few key words?" Half the hands went down. "Those remaining please come up here." He chose the two most mobile for the engineering room duty. But he gave all six a brief lesson in communicating with the blind and deaf. Then he assigned one to each of the four men he was about to make team leaders. Then he addressed the group of eleven men.

"I have two concerns. One is boredom, the other is increasing everyone's ability to cope. Also, I'll be sending you a number of folks who are not only blind but deaf also. Tresky, you're in charge. Create teams. Use Roberts here, your games man. When people get tired, if you can figure a way to safely get them to their quarters, go ahead. Any questions?"

"No, sir."

"I'm off, then. Taking Kibble and Dumak with me."

Just outside the mess hall, they met Sewell with a report on the E-suits. There were 41, counting Kirk's, all in the same condition as his. They were scattered amongst 8 airlocks, so only five were at any one location. Kirk sent Kibble and Dumak with Sewell to the engine room, while he took off for airlock 12 on a run.

Group 2 was waiting for him. He discussed the transfer procedures with them, emphasizing that each time they donned the e-suit helmet, they would have maybe five minutes of air. He wanted them to rig a cable and pulley system for moving the sled back and forth. He was about to assign two to airlock 7, two to airlock 12, and two to transport the other stretcher cases, when the sled arrived, accompanied by Burns.

Burns already had the pulley system set up, and a crew lined up to man airlock 7.

"Wonderful! You're two steps ahead of me. Burns, I'm placing you in charge of this airlock. You've got six men here, all blind too. Three stretcher cases are here, four more are still in Sickbay, and two in main engineering. Do you need my communicator?"

"No, sir. Uhura's manning airlock 7, so I brought the one you gave me."

"Great! I'm headed back to main engineering. Call if you need anything."

Kirk called Scotty on his way to the engine room.

"Aye, Cap'n."

"Scotty, I'm ready to start receiving the injured. Send me six of the blind and deaf, and pick ones that are coping fairly well. I'll let you know when I'm ready for more."

"The sooner, the better, sir. Scott out."

Kirk arrived at the airlock just as it opened and let out six blind and deaf crewmen. He lined them up along the wall of the corridor, told each one in turn who he was and how he would talk to them. Then he called Scotty and told him he was ready for the next group.

"Can I send ye the hysterical ones? They're getting' on m' nerves, Cap'n."

"There's three of them? All conscious?"

"Aye, but they won't be if I have ta listen ta 't much longer, if ye take m' meanin'."

"All right, Scotty, but one at a time, please. There's only one of me. So send me the worst one along with the other four who are coping."

"Thank ye, Cap'n."

When they arrived, Kirk quickly paired the four with buddies from the first group, showing them how to communicate with each other. The other two he placed in the lead, having ascertained that they knew the way to the mess hall blind. Sending the ten off, he turned his attention to the hysterical one.

He was still in the airlock, banging the walls with his fist and screaming like a two-year-old. Kirk remembered how desperate he had been to make physical contact with Bones, Spock, and Chuck. So he approached this man with compassion. Expecting violence, he placed his hand on the man's arm. The guy turned and began flailing out at Kirk instead of the wall. Kirk fended off the blows that would have landed on his face and ignored the rest. Meanwhile, he drew the man out of the airlock.

However, when he turned to close and reset the airlock, the guy immediately sensed his absence. So as Kirk finished the reset, he was tackled from behind and dragged to the floor. He tried to wiggle enough to turn over, but the man thought he was trying to get away, and tightened his grip. So Kirk relaxed completely and simply waited. At least the screaming had stopped.

Several moments went by. Finally the man loosened his grip slightly. Kirk didn't move so much as a muscle. He loosened his grip further. Kirk still didn't move. The man began to explore Kirk's body by touch. When he reached Kirk's head, Kirk slowly and carefully turned over. The man tensed, and grabbed one of Kirk's arms, but remained sitting next to Kirk on the floor.

For the first time, Kirk got a good enough look at the man to identify him. He gaped in surprise. It was Chuck Byrd. He would not have guessed that Chuck would fall apart under these circumstances. Nor had he imagined this scene when he had challenged Chuck to let himself be known.

He slowly reached up and began to spell on Chuck's chest N-O S-E-C-R-E-T-S, at once telling him who he was, and that it was okay.

Chuck shook his head in frustration. "Sorry, I didn't get it. Try again." This time he spelled each letter aloud. "N-O, no; S-E-C-R-E-T-S secrets, no secrets. Only one person ever said that to me. You have to be Jim Kirk!"

Kirk squeezed his arm, yes, then continued to spell.

"T-A-L-K talk, L-A-T-E-R later, N-E-E-D need, H-E-L-P help, N-O-W now. You need my help?! What could I possibly do?"

"O-T-H-E-R-S others, L-I-K-E like, Y-O-U you. There are others like me?"

Yes.

"H-O-L-D hold, T-A-L-K. You want me to hold and talk to them?"

Yes.

"O-N-E one, only one?"

Yes.

"W-A-I-T wait. Okay, I got it."

Kirk stood up and moved Chuck away from the airlock door.

"Kirk to Scott."

"Aye, Cap'n."

"You can send me the other two now."

"Both of them at once?"

"Yes. I've talked to Chuck. He's going to help."

"You talked to him, right. I don't know how you managed to do that, but I'll send ye the other two. What about the wounded?"

"I'll take the four ambulatory ones in a few minutes. Call Burns about when he can take the stretcher cases. No, belay that. Here they come now. The stretcher bearers are blind, so you'll have to give them a little help."

"Aye, Cap'n. Scott out."

Kirk manned the airlock for the stretcher bearers, then told Chuck about the delay. After the first stretcher case was removed, they received the other two hysterical cases. These proved not to be violent, but rather moaned and clung tightly to Chuck and Kirk. After five minutes or so, they stopped moaning and didn't cling quite so badly. But neither of them snapped out of it as Chuck had, as soon as he realized there was someone he could talk to.

Kirk explained to Chuck what he had in mind and asked him to explain it to the other two, while he received the wounded. Just then, the stretcher crew arrived, so Kirk let them take out the second stretcher case first.

"Scotty, we're ready for the last of your wounded."

"Thank ye, Cap'n. That frees us to concentrate on fixing yer ship."

"It's not my - right, Scotty. Keep me posted. Kirk out." Kirk knew that Scotty had not in fact forgotten Kirk's position, but merely used this opportunity to indicate his pleasure at Kirk's presence.

Kirk paired each of the wounded with one of the others, taking the most serious himself. Then, putting Chuck at the rear, he led them down to Sickbay. He conferred briefly with Forest, explaining how he communicated with the deaf.

Forest was of the opinion that they should move the rest of the wounded, not just the stretcher cases. Embedded glass could cause serious problems if untreated.

Kirk called Burns for a status report.

"We've moved six of them, sir. The other three are here, waiting to go. We should be finished in about fifteen minutes."

"How's your crew holding up? Anybody pass out from lack of air?"

"No, sir. We've got the timing down pretty well. I'd say everyone's doing fine."

"Would you say they can handle another eighteen transfers, or do I need to get you a relief crew?"

"No problem, sir. Send them up. We can handle it."

"Good. That's what I needed to know. Kirk out."

Kirk divided the wounded into five groups, each led by a sighted person. He took the first group himself, instructing Forest to start the second group five minutes later. He told Chuck he would be back in about twenty minutes. He wasn't. He had forgotten he would have to wait for the other groups to clear the access tunnel before he could return. He met Forest with the last group still some distance from Sickbay.

"Captain, I didn't want to leave them alone, but Mr. Byrd insisted they would be fine. I don't see how he tolerates those other two clinging to him all the time."

"You have to have been there to understand it. Forest, I appreciate everything you've done. When you're finished at the airlock, take a break. Then report to Scotty."

"Yes, sir. And thank you."


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Kirk hurried to Sickbay, knowing that time would drag for those who waited. Chuck was his cheerful, calm self, but the other two were getting fretful by the time Kirk returned. They calmed down when Kirk made his presence known. He led them all to the mess hall.

As soon as they entered the room, Chuck whispered in Kirk's ear, "There's a lot of fear in this room. I can smell it."

Kirk spelled for him, MANY BLIND SOME DEAF TOO.

"Can we help?" was Chuck's response.

TRY, WAIT HERE.

Kirk found Tresky in the crowd, told him about the last two blind and deaf from engineering, and that they were extremely insecure and would need extra attention.

"I had heard there were three more coming."

"Yes, but the third is Chuck Byrd, one of the observers. I haven't asked him yet, but I'm guessing he'll want to stay with me. How are things going here?"

"Well, we've organized this game as you see, and I guess it's working, but-"

"What are the rules?"

"You have to get from one wall to the other between the two lines of people. If you get all the way there, it's 100 points. But you lose a point every time you touch someone on either side."

"What's the average score?"

"Most of us are getting 85 to 90."

"Sounds like a good game. It's just missing a couple of elements. Do you mind if I liven things up a little?"

"Go ahead, sir. Be my guest."

"Do me a favor. Relieve Chuck of his two companions over there by the door, while I find something to use for a blindfold."

"A blindfold, sir?"

"Of course. I can't play your game if I'm not blind."

"Right. You might try the kitchen."

Kirk found a large cleaning rag that worked quite adequately. He returned to the dining room to find that another man had just started down the aisle. Kirk donned the blindfold and stepped into the aisle about half way from either wall.

"If you come towards my voice, you don't have to touch anyone. Just follow the sound of my voice." Kirk heard him take a step. "That's right, keep coming." As he came closer, Kirk began to slowly back his way toward the far wall. He kept up a constant verbal stream of encouragement, and the man did follow his voice.

When others realized what he was doing, there was a fair amount of muttering. Someone was even bold enough to yell out, "That's cheating!"

"I'll answer that charge in just a few minutes. Meanwhile, keep coming towards the sound of my voice."

Kirk reached the far wall, and a minute later, so did the man he was directing.

"You're there. How many people did you touch after you started following me?"

"None, sir."

"Do you know who I am?"

"Yes, sir. I recognized your voice."

"Put your hand up and touch my face."

He did and gasped.

"People, he has just discovered that I'm wearing a blindfold." He turned back to the man in front of him. "You thought I could see, and that's why you followed my voice."

"Yes, sir."

"Do you feel betrayed?"

"No, sir. You did get me here."

"You got yourself here. All I did was talk to you. Anyone could have done it."

"Excuse me, sir." It was someone up the line on Kirk's left.

"Go ahead. You have a question?"

"Yes, sir. Well, not really a question. But I heard you go past, and it sounded as if you were backing up as you talked. I don't think I could do that."

"Yes, I was. If you can't see where you're going anyway, what difference does it make if you're walking backwards or forwards. But the point I was trying to illustrate is that you can follow someone's voice and walk in a straight line. You may need to remember that. As to the cheating charge," he began to walk back up the aisle and stopped directly in front of the man who had been so bold - or so foolish, "I applaud your boldness. You will need it in order to conquer your fear of blindness. Do you still think I was cheating?"

"N-no, sir. Not if you really can't see, sir. We didn't write that into the rules. Nobody thought of doing it, sir."

"Step forward, please. Touch my face. Your sense of touch becomes very important when you can't see. Use it. Establish to your own satisfaction whether or not I can see. And would you tell us your conclusion."

"No, you can't see. Unless the fabric over your eyes is transparent."

"It's a cleaning rag from the kitchen."

"But sir-"

"Yes?"

"If you can't see, how did you locate me?"

"I identified your location by the sound of your voice, and I remembered it. That illustrates another point. You will have to sharpen your memory for the location of things. Since you cannot see them, you will have to remember where they are.

"Thank you. You may step back now." Kirk continued his walk towards the other end of the room. "Some of you are thinking this is all well and good for group 2, but you are group 1, and I'm expecting too much of you. Let me say this: it should be the goal of each of you to graduate to group 2 as soon as possible. Don't wait for the medics to figure this out and give you back your sight. Use this opportunity to increase your skill level, so the next time you're caught sightless, you don't have to feel so helpless.

"There's two things you need to conquer. One is the fear of being disoriented. The other is the fear of falling. The way I conquer any fear is by doing the thing I fear. So get someone to spin you around and around until you're completely disoriented. Then see how long it takes you to fix it. When you can do it in thirty seconds, and when you can laugh while they're spinning you around, then you don't need further practice.

"And when I say laugh, I don't mean a nervous chuckle. I mean a real laugh, because it's fun, because it's funny, because there's no fear in it anymore. That brings me to another point. It's much too deadly serious in here. I know your goal is a serious one, but you'll get there faster if you can make genuine fun in this situation. This is a game. Games are fun.

"Let me pause here to include our deaf friends. A tremendous thank you to those of you with a deaf companion. I've said a lot in a short time, so I'm going to give you a few minutes to summarize for them. While you're doing that, I'm going to fetch my deaf friend, Chuck, who's over by the door. I'll be right back."

Kirk went to Chuck.

"E-N-T-E-R enter, S-L sl? S-L as in stage left?"

Yes.

"You're ready to introduce me."

Yes.

"Are you going to give me any clues about what's going on?"

No.

"Okay. Ignorance is bliss. Lead on, friend."

Chuck knew without conscious thought that Kirk was utterly trustworthy. It didn't mean necessarily that he would like what was about to happen, but Kirk's goal was conquering fear, and Chuck was committed to help.

Kirk led Chuck to the near end of the aisle and waited another minute or two for the murmur of voices to quit.

"This is my friend, Chuck. Like some of you, he is blind and deaf due to what happened in the engine room. I have told him virtually nothing of what's going on here. He knows the room is full of blind and deaf folks, and that's all he knows. In a minute, I'm going to send him down this aisle, which he doesn't even know is here. I want you to listen carefully, because I'm going to ask you whether there is any fear of this in this man's soul."

Kirk turned to Chuck, spelled T-A-L-K and W-A-L-K, and pushed him gently in the right direction.

"Talk and walk, the man says. Okay, my name's Chuck. I'm a friend of Jim's." As he talked, he walked calmly in a straight line right down the middle of the aisle. "The only thing I know about this is that he wouldn't tell me anything. Jim, I just ran into a wall. Do you want me to turn around and come back?"

"Somebody squeeze his arm once. That means yes."

"Now you might wonder what kind of a friend would get you into an unknown situation and refuse to tell you anything. Or better yet, why I would let him do this to me." By this time, he had returned to Kirk, but Kirk let him finish the thought. "The answer is in one word: trust. I trust him. I could talk your ear off about why I trust him, but I'll have to do that sometime when he's not around. He doesn't mind your knowing; he just doesn't want to have to sit and listen to it. And now I better shut up, before he shuts me up."

Kirk squeezed yes, but was pleased to hear a few chuckles. He sat Chuck down by the wall.

"I forgot to restrict the content of his talk." A few more chuckles. "Be that as it may, to return to the point, did you hear any fear in this man?"

A chorus of no's.

"My point is that group 2 is not restricted to those that can hear. The blind and deaf can be in group 2 also. I'll give you a few minutes to tell them what just occurred."

Meanwhile Kirk talked to Tresky.

"What I want to do next requires some obstacles. Something small and heavy, easy to trip over. Got any ideas?"

"No. Nothing readily available. Not in the mess hall anyway."

"Okay. If this goes on for several days, you can experiment with other sources of obstacles, but for now, we'll have to use people. I just don't want anybody to get hurt. They're liable to get kicked or stepped on."

"I think I can get some volunteers. Just exactly what do you have in mind?"

"I don't want to tell you exactly, because I don't want to know what it's going to look like. I want you to create an obstacle course in which it's inevitable that I will fall flat on my face more than once. Slapstick comedy is what I'm after. I want to establish that falling down is no big deal. And I want to do it in such a way that has this crowd laughing uproariously."

There was a moment of silence as Tresky digested the idea. "That's a tall order, sir." The unspoken objection wasn't so much disapproval as difficulty.

"Do you have any pranksters in this crowd? Something completely unexpected might do the trick. Put your heads together and see what you can come up with."

Tresky slowly nodded, beginning to engage the problem.

Kirk smiled his encouragement. "Let me know when you're ready."

"Yes, sir."

Kirk sat down next to Chuck, who immediately sensed his presence.

"Jim, I'm sorry for teasing you."

DONT BE. IT WORKED.

"You mean, they laughed?"

FEW CHUCKLES. YOU DID EXACTLY WHAT I WANTED.

"But is that all? Just walk to the far wall and back? Are you telling me these people can't even do that?" The tone of disbelief was almost overdone, considering how recently Chuck himself had been non-functional.

NOT CANT. WONT.

"As in, they're afraid to."

Yes. BUT THERES MORE. TRUST ME?

Chuck laughed. "I remember the last time you asked me that, you proceeded to tell me exactly what you were going to do. Now you're refusing to tell me anything, but it's the same question. And I've already answered it, so are you really telling me that what's coming is similar to the last time?"

CANT TELL YOU.

"You know, it's funny, but when I told Spock about that scene with your face, he said you trusted me a great deal. So maybe the question isn't whether I trust you, but whether you can trust me."

I DO.

"Even after last night, even after that scene in the airlock an hour ago?"

Before Kirk could formulate a reply, Tresky called him.

"Over here, Tresky."

EXCUSE

Kirk stood up to talk to Tresky.

"Sir, we have a plan, and I believe it might accomplish what you wish, but we have a problem."

"What's that?"

"The men refuse to implement it. There's a regulation against striking an officer."

Kirk sighed. That particular regulation was getting to be quite an annoyance. "Would it help if I talked to them?"

"Possibly."

"Your attention, gentlemen. I understand you're refusing to set up the obstacle course I requested because it could be construed as a violation of the regulation against striking an officer. Let me remind you of a few things about this situation.

"This is not a brawl or a physical altercation of any kind. It's a training session. If I were to engage in a sparring match with you in the gym, you would not be quoting this regulation to me. Secondly, I am not your commanding officer. I am a passenger aboard this vessel. I have no authority in this situation whatsoever. Your participation in this training session is entirely voluntary, as is mine. Most of you should know me well enough by now to know I'm not going to file a complaint about anything that happens in here. Which brings me to the last point. Since we have no power, the computer's not recording anything. So who's going to report it - after all, no one saw a thing!"

It took a brief moment to register what he had said. Then the room erupted into laughter. _Good_, thought Kirk, _they can see a little humor in it_. The laughter was short-lived, but it eased the tension in the group considerably.

"So, will you do it, as a favor to me?"

A variety of responses, most of which Kirk couldn't distinguish.

"Let me rephrase that. Is there anyone who wants to go on record as protesting this activity and refusing to participate?"

Dead silence.

"Tresky, let me know when you're set." And Kirk sat down again next to Chuck.

"What was that all about?"

MUTINY.

"You mean, they don't want to do what you have cooked up? I can imagine why."

IMAGINE WORSE THAN REALITY.

"Oh, I know. And I'm trying not to, but not very successfully. Of course, after last night, I deserve whatever you throw at me."

STOP IT. Kirk gripped Chuck's arm to convey the intensity of his feelings about this. NOT ABOUT PAYMENT FOR SIN. YOU DID ME NO WRONG.

"I know that's what you said, but it's simply not true! And only now that I'm in the same condition do I realize the magnitude of what I did! I had no idea. You adjusted so easily - it was as if it was nothing. The reality is so very much worse than it seemed to be for you. Jim, I wouldn't tell this to very many people, but I'm scared. I don't know if I can live with this."

SO ARE ALL IN THIS ROOM. CAN YOU BE FEARLESS FOR THEM?

"Sure. At least for a little while. I'll just do a 'Jim Kirk' impersonation. After all, that's what I've been doing ever since you found me in the airlock."

GOTTA GO. BACK SOON.

"See ya."

_What an unfortunate idiom_, thought Kirk. But there seemed to be a smile in Chuck's voice, as if he was making a joke of it. So he punched Chuck's arm playfully as he left.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Tresky led him further along the wall, then told him the obstacle course ran in a straight line in front of him, but diagonally across the room to give them more length. Tresky stepped back and Kirk tightened his blindfold before addressing the crowd.

"In just a moment, I'm going to run this obstacle course you've set up."

"Captain, a brisk walk would be better to start with," interrupted Tresky.

"A walk, then. I have no idea where the obstacles are, or what they consist of. After I've finished, I'm going to send Chuck next. He doesn't even know the obstacles exist. Then each of you will have an opportunity. You know where and what the obstacles are, but you cannot see them.

"A Group 2 person is not afraid of running into what he cannot see, is not afraid of falling down. Most importantly, he's not afraid of making a fool of himself. We're born with a fear of falling. You've all had that trained out of you. And for most of you, it shouldn't make that much difference that you can't see what you're landing on. The real issue is how ridiculous and helpless you feel.

"That being the case, I want you to admit it to yourself and everyone else by laughing every time you fall. And I want the rest of you to laugh too. Because it _is_ funny, and the bigger the ego, the funnier it is. So it should be uproariously funny to see the famous - or infamous, depending on your perspective - Captain James T. Kirk fall flat on his face because he can't see where he's going."

He paused because he sensed an undercurrent of objection. "You object because you cannot see it. You need to learn to see with your ears. Translate what you hear into a visual image. Let your mind imagine what it looks like." The undercurrent had not dissipated. "You don't think you can do that? Or you don't think it's funny?" Dead silence. "Come on, somebody talk to me. You were with me until just a minute ago. What's wrong?"

"May I speak freely, sir?"

The voice sounded familiar, but Kirk didn't press for an ID, assuming he'd prefer to remain anonymous. "Of course, please do."

"It's Taylor, sir." Apparently he didn't need anonymity. "I can't speak for anyone else, but I don't think you have a big ego. If you did, you wouldn't be doing this. I've never met anyone less self-centered than you are. You have nothing to prove. You're doing this for us, not for yourself.

"And I know why you want us to laugh. You hope that if we can laugh at you, that we'll be able to laugh at ourselves. And if we can laugh at ourselves, the battle against fear is already half-won. I will try to do what you ask, though I don't know if I can laugh to order, but don't try to convince me you have a big ego, because I know you don't."

"Thank you, Taylor. I stand corrected. Anyone else have any input?"

A slightly tentative voice came from across the room. "That pretty much sums up how I feel too, Captain. After all, how many people do you know who'd give up their eyesight to help a bunch of fearful engineers cope with blindness?"

"Actually I know of several others. And the fact that you're engineers doesn't affect my desire to help, one way or another. Anyone else?"

Someone fairly close by had a bold objection. "Sir, I don't think it's funny to fall down, no matter who's doing it. I can probably make appropriate laughing sounds, but if I don't really think it's funny, what's the point?"

"I don't want you to laugh because I told you to laugh. I want you to laugh because it's funny. If it's not funny, don't laugh. But if it is funny, don't repress the laughter because you think it's unacceptable or inappropriate. Does that help clarify?"

"Yes. Thank you, sir."

Kirk prayed silently for a moment. _Lord, give us the gift of laughter, starting with me. And protect them from any injury. I don't want to hurt anyone._

"If there are no other comments or questions, can we get this show on the road?"

Tresky answered. "Ready any time, Captain."

Kirk took three steps and tripped over something. He didn't try to break his fall, but landed sprawled on his face. That was harder than he had expected. It did make a difference that he couldn't see. He'd had to consciously force his body to relax, whereas normally he wouldn't have had to think about it.

Also, he was intensely curious about what he had tripped over. It was too small to have been human, and he remembered no sense of contact with flesh. So, they had found something else, but what? He repressed his curiosity. Analyze later. Right now, enjoy the experience.

Suddenly he knew that he would indeed thoroughly enjoy the experience. Every time he fell, he would be physically acting out his trust in the Lord by relaxing completely. He began laughing for joy, stood up, and pressed on, eagerly looking for the next obstacle. He found it a few steps later, and again landed face down on the floor. The second time was easier, and by the third time, it seemed normal.

Standing up after the third fall, he was suddenly struck from behind by something that felt almost like a whip. He yelped with surprise and instinctively started to run. After half a dozen steps, he ran into something that hit him on the upper thighs. Because of his momentum, he dived over it, turned a somersault, and landed on his back.

He hadn't really stopped laughing since the first fall, but this last move generated a deep, sustained belly laugh. The crowd had begun to laugh with him on the first three falls, but had become silently tense after the third fall. Clearly they had been worried about his reaction to the whip. Hearing his belly laugh, they joined in with relief, but still somewhat tentatively.

"That was wonderful! Is there more?"

"No, Captain, that's it."

Kirk stood up and began searching for that last obstacle. He wanted to know what it was made of.

"Congratulations on a brilliant design. I hit this last obstacle on a dead run, dived over it, and flipped onto my back, all without effort. It was great!" He had found the obstacle and was exploring it with his fingers. "Oh, they're uniform belts, fastened together. Very ingenious, but then I shouldn't be surprised. You _are_ engineers, after all. Is that what you hit me with too - the end of a belt?"

"Yes, sir." That was a reluctant admission. Kirk had already demonstrated he could find someone by voice alone. He started walking towards the voice.

"Well done. Your aim was excellent, your timing perfect. Whoever thought up that idea deserves a commendation."

"It was Tresky, sir."

Kirk continued walking back to the starting line, stepping over the obstacles as he came to them.

"You asked for something unexpected, sir," Tresky explained.

Kirk chuckled. "It definitely was that. Running was an instinctive response, but how did you know?"

"My father trains horses. But we had four others lined up to repeat the treatment, in case you didn't get the message immediately."

"How did you know I wouldn't get angry?"

"They thought you would. Even after you talked to them, they only agreed to it because I took full responsibility. I knew you wouldn't get angry. You see," he lowered his voice for Kirk's ears only. "Eric is a good friend of mine."

"Say no more. I believe the danger is past, but the fewer who know, the better."

"As you wish, sir."

Kirk raised his voice to normal volume again. "Well, I would love to do this again, but I promised Chuck would be next. Tresky, would you escort him over here? The reason I've kept him ignorant is that I want you to see what happens when he encounters obstacles he did not know were there. How will he handle the situation? Will he get angry when you hit him, and if so, at you or me?"

"Tresky, will you ask Chuck if he knows what's going on."

Tresky spelled for Chuck.

"I have no idea - no, that's not quite true. I know this room is full of folks who are afraid of blindness. Jim Kirk is trying to help you learn to cope, and I'm here to help. Also, I know Jim well enough to have some idea how he would go about the task. Other than that, no, I don't know what's going on. I told you he wouldn't tell me anything."

"Okay, Tresky, don't say anything more, just point him in the right direction and give him a shove. Let's see what he does."

"I take it that means 'go'." Chuck took a few steps and found the first obstacle with his feet. But he wasn't walking as fast as Kirk had been, so he didn't trip over it and fall. He merely stopped and stooped to examine it.

"This is clever. I assume I was supposed to trip and fall. Sorry, I wasn't going fast enough. But we can fix that easily enough." He stood up, stepped over the obstacle, and moved on at a fast walk. Coming to the next one, he tripped and fell headlong.

"There, is that better?" He chuckled. "That's actually kind of fun. Are there more? Never mind. I don't expect an answer." He stood up, jogged to the next one, and again fell flat on his face. This time he burst out laughing.

"I don't know why it's funny; it just is." When he was hit by the belt, he too squawked in surprise, and started running. He hit the last obstacle, flew over it, and landed on his back, just as Kirk had. For a moment, there was dead silence. Then Chuck erupted in a deep belly laugh. "That was great fun! Can I do it again?"

"Tell him he'll have to wait his turn. Tresky, you're next. After that, the gentleman bold enough to wield the belt." To Tresky, he said, "Your performance is even more critical than mine. If you can do this, they will believe they can. Any questions?"

"Just one. What do we do with those that can't do this?"

"You can try several things. Ask their permission to use the belt. Or you might try pulling them through it. If nothing works, back off to something they can do, and work your way back up to this. When you get tired of this game, try a session on disorientation. Divide them into small groups. Work in pairs even. Group 2 should be back soon. Utilize their skill. Keep everybody busy in the present moment. Tomorrow's worries can be dealt with later."

"Thanks for everything, Captain."

"You're welcome. If you can handle things, Chuck and I will depart."

Out in the corridor, Chuck asked, "Are you going to take off the blindfold now?"

"How did you know I hadn't?"

"I just thought you might have forgotten you were wearing it."

"Can you hear me?"

"I'm guessing what you're saying. How am I doing?"

VERY WELL

"And how did I do impersonating Jim Kirk?"

AMAZING

"I have a confession. As soon as I felt the belt line, I put two and two together and knew what to expect. I felt the floor vibrate every time you fell. I just didn't know what it meant until I felt the trip line. I even knew you ran between falls 3 and 4. I just didn't know why. You have to hit the last one running, or you don't get the somersault affect. But since you made such a point of keeping me in the dark, I didn't think I should tell them how much I knew. Did I guess wrong?"

No. YOU DID JUST -FINE

"Good. What's next?"

WAIT NEED REPORTS

"Kirk to Burns. What's your status?"

"We have four more. Done in twenty minutes, sir."

"Any problems?"

"No, sir."

"When you're finished, report to Tresky in the mess hall. Kirk out."

"Kirk to Scotty."

"Scott here, Cap'n."

"Care to hazard a guess on the time for repairs?"

"We might beat your 48 hour deadline, but not by much."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Not at the moment. Biggest problem is personnel. This crew is going to be ready to drop in twelve hours, and I've got no replacements."

"Could you make use of blind engineers, or sighted personnel who aren't engineers?"

"Maybe. If we combined an engineer with someone who can see, the team effort might be useful. Some of my people could work that way, but not everybody. I could use maybe ten such teams in about six hours."

"I'll see what I can do. Kirk out."

"Kirk to Spock."

"Spock here, Captain."

"We've almost finished transferring the wounded up to the primary hull. Scotty's got a crew of twenty working on repairs, which he says will take close to 48 hours. He needs a relief crew, and there are no more engineers who aren't blind. I want to create teams of two: one blind engineer with one sighted person from another department. Do you think we could get maybe ten such people down here in about six hours?"

"Uhura has not finished accounting for all personnel. I will be better able to answer that question in approximately two hours."

"You mean we may not have that many sighted personnel available?"

"I do not know that we don't, but at this point in time, I do not know for sure that we do. She has covered decks 20-30, and the results are not encouraging."

"Spock, do you need me to get back up to the primary hull, or shall I stay here?"

"Why are you asking me such a question, Captain?"

"I'm willing to go wherever I'm needed most. You're in command. Tell me what you want me to do."

"Captain, regulations clearly state that the most senior officer-"

"Spock, don't quote me the regulations. I'll take command if I have to. Meanwhile, answer the question."

"Engineering remains the most critical area of need. So if you can be useful to Mr. Scott, you should remain. Sickbay is the second critical area of need, but since you do not possess medical training, your usefulness to them would be limited."

"And what about you?" He sounded fine, but Kirk doubted that he really was.

Spock deliberately misinterpreted the question. "I do not possess medical training either."

"No, but you can give me an assessment of your current medical condition."

"If I lose consciousness, Mr. Sulu will contact you immediately."

"And that's all I'm going to get out of you?" Kirk sighed. "All right, have it your way. I'll stay here for now. Let me know about those ten volunteers, and I'd love to have ten more about six hours later. Kirk out."

"Kirk to Sickbay."

"Chapel here, sir."

"Can you get me a report on Captain Young's condition? And how soon will Bones be ready for Spock?"

"One moment, Captain." Long pause. "Sir, Captain Young's surgery is complete. He has not yet regained consciousness. His condition is stable. As regards Mr. Spock, he and Dr. McCoy have discussed his condition. Mr. Spock insists that his condition will not be adversely affected by the delay. Dr. McCoy has agreed to perform his surgery last provided Mr. Spock will remain stationary. Excess movement increases the risk of a glass fragment traveling through his bloodstream to the heart. I am not sure how long the delay will be, but it could easily be another five or six hours."

"Thank you, Chapel. Let me know if that time frame changes drastically. Kirk out."

Telling Chuck he'd be back in a minute, Kirk took off the blindfold so as to make faster progress. At the mess hall, he apprised Tresky of the plan for relief crews. Returning to Chuck, he led him to an empty conference room.

IVE GOT ABOUT 2 HRS TO TALK. TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED IN ENGINE ROOM.

"What happened? I'm sure I don't know. I had been standing near the doorway talking with Mr. Scott. He stepped into the corridor for a moment. I don't remember why. Suddenly there was an enormous white light, blinding me. I think there was a noise too, but I don't remember for sure. I blacked out. I don't know how long I was unconscious. When I came to, there was no light and no sound, except that I heard someone screaming. I couldn't have, but I did. Unless- The someone screaming must have been me. Anyway, something hit me on the back of the head, and I blacked out again.

"When I woke up again, there was still no light and no sound. But I was beginning to understand what had happened to me. I had no idea where I was, or that there were others like me. I can remember pounding the floor in frustration. It's strange, but it never occurred to me to just start talking, hoping somebody could hear me. I felt so isolated; it was as if no one else existed."

I UNDERSTAND.

"I know you do. Lying on the floor having a temper tantrum, all I could think about was you. I understand some things about last night that completely escaped me at the time. I thought the reason you were so desperate for physical touch was because you were afraid to be alone. What I didn't understand was exactly how alone you felt. McCoy did that to you on purpose - he knew it would multiply your sense of aloneness, and thus your fear.

"The thing is, you didn't seem to mind. Your first reaction was to treat the whole thing as a game. That's why I was so completely unaware of what I was really doing to you when I numbed your hands and feet. McCoy was shouting orders, and I didn't think about the consequences. But now - I shudder to contemplate the loss of my hands and feet on top of eyes and ears. I'd be completely helpless." He held up his hands before dropping them in his lap.

THAT WAS THE IDEA.

"But when I tackled you at the airlock, you didn't try to immobilize me. Why not?"

DIFFERENT GOAL.

"Jim, why don't you hate me, or at the very least, despise me?"

WHY SHOULD I?

"Because of what I did to you. You haven't said a word about all that pain, but I haven't forgotten it. I can't imagine dealing with that much pain, let alone doing it blind and deaf. I behaved like a two-year-old, with nothing like half the excuse. I am weak, and you are strong. You are fearless, and I'm scared stiff. I despise myself." Chuck slumped in dejection.

Kirk prayed for wisdom, and for patience with the slow means of communication.

LISTEN CAREFULLY. I DONT HATE YOU. YOU FOLLOWED DOCTORS ORDERS. WE TRUSTED YOU TO HELP NOT HINDER AND YOU DID. I NEEDED WHAT YOU DID FOR ME, BOTH THE HELPLESSNESS AND THE PAIN.

"Nobody needs that kind of pain."

YES I DID. ANYTHING LESS WOULD HAVE LEFT ME WONDERING. BUT NOT ONCE DURING THOSE LONG HOURS DID THE FEAR RAISE ITS UGLY HEAD. I KNEW THEN THAT I WAS REALLY HEALED. THANK YOU.

"Well, you're welcome, I guess. Thinking the way you do is a real challenge. It's so backwards. For most people, the avoidance of pain is a fairly high priority. For you, it doesn't even make it to the list of things to be concerned about."

IVE NEVER BEEN AFRAID OF PAIN. THATS JUST HOW GOD WIRED ME. ITS NO GREAT VIRTUE. SOME EVEN CALL IT FOOLISHNESS.

"You are _not_ a fool. Strong-willed, yes. Stubborn, sometimes. Fearless, usually. But a fool, never. And you're not afraid of being blind and deaf either. Whereas I am quaking in my boots every time I have to face the reality of it. Which is whenever you're not distracting me with something. Say - you did that on purpose: Gave me something to do, someone to think about besides myself."

Yes. ITS HOW I COPE. BUT I DONT KNOW THAT I COULD FACE THIS WITHOUT FEAR. MY SITUATION VERY DIFFERENT. WE DONT KNOW THAT THIS IS TEMPORARY.

BUT NO VIRTUE IN ABSENCE OF FEAR. COURAGE IS NOT LETTING FEAR CONTROL YOU, AND YOU ARENT. I DO NOT DESPISE YOU. I ADMIRE YOU. WHEN I MET YOU, PERSONAL TRANSPARENCY WAS A FOREIGN CONCEPT. NOW YOU FREELY SHARE YOUR DEEPEST FEARS. SUCH A CHANGE REQUIRES GREAT COURAGE AND INNER STRENGTH.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Kirk continued to share with Chuck, gradually encouraging him to face the fear, ask the 'what if' questions, deal with the identity crisis. It became apparent that Chuck's biggest problem was worry that he could no longer read people. So Kirk got him to experiment on himself - to guess what Kirk was thinking by putting his hand on Kirk's face. It worked surprisingly well. Chuck could easily sense Kirk's emotions, and because he already knew Kirk fairly well, he could guess pretty accurately what thoughts went with those emotions. They were about to try it with just hand to hand contact when Spock called with a report.

All personnel were accounted for. Total able-bodied crewmen: 93, and that included Kirk, Scott, and McCoy, the only senior officers unaffected. 19 in Engineering, 15 medical personnel. Six of the 20 essential posts were manned by a sighted person. Three of those were Bridge crew from third shift: Navigation, Communications, and Science. That left 50 available for reassignment.

"Engineering wants 20, medical can use as many as we can spare," Spock concluded.

"What's the count on the injured, not counting blind and deaf?"

There was a slight pause, as if even Spock was appalled at the total. "128, including myself, Captain."

"That's awful! They've only got 40 beds."

"I am aware of that."

"So where do you want me, Spock? And how many is Scotty getting?"

Spock sighed when he realized the questions meant Kirk was still refusing to take command, but he did not speak of it. "Mr. Scott shall have the 20 requested personnel. His is still the most urgent need. In spite of the regulation concerning essential posts, I am inclined to send all other sighted personnel to Sickbay."

"It's your decision, Spock. Do you want me to head for Sickbay, too?"

"No, Captain. I want you on the Bridge within the hour."

Spock seldom made demands, and the timeframe didn't indicate urgency, but Kirk responded with immediate action anyway.

"Right. On my way. Kirk out."

Chuck wanted to come with, in spite of the condition of the E-suits. Kirk agreed to take him. He contacted Scotty and Tresky. The latter now had Burns' communicator. Tresky was confident he could work out the duty roster, matching teams up. And thanks to Kirk, most of his people were almost ready to take this on. Scotty was grateful for the promised replacements, but could give no better time estimate, since he didn't know how fast the teams could work.

The E-suit trip to the primary hull came off without a hitch. Kirk had attached Chuck's suit to his own, and clipped his own to the cable. Then he pushed off in a fast dive, knowing they didn't have time for a hand-over-hand approach. As it was, he was about out of air by the time he cracked open his and Chuck's helmets.

"Wow! Talk about increasing trust levels! I wouldn't want to have to do that every day, but you sure find out how much you trust the guy you're with. When you have time, I'll tell you what that felt like."

O-K.

The first of those headed to Engineering were arriving, so Kirk gave them a few quick pointers on how to handle the transfer. Then he and Chuck headed for the access tunnel and began climbing. They stopped at Deck 15 so Kirk could check in with Lt. Tanis on the Rec Deck. The room was very crowded. Fortunately Tanis was near the door. So was Uhura. Kirk conferred with them both, sharing what he had done with those in Engineering. They decided to split this group in half, sending 100 of them to the Hangar Deck. Kirk gave his communicator to Tanis, who was taking the group to the Hangar Deck. Uhura would take charge of those staying on the Rec Deck.

Kirk decided against making an appearance in Sickbay, and went straight to the Bridge. When he and Chuck arrived, the Bridge was occupied solely by Spock, Sulu, and Chekov.

"Kirk here. At ease. No, Spock, don't get up."

"Jim!" Chuck interrupted. "My hearing's coming back!"

"Chuck, that's wonderful! Maybe the blindness is temporary too. Have a seat." He guided Chuck to Uhura's chair and turned to face Spock. "Spock, now that I'm-" He stopped abruptly. "Spock, your face! Your eyes-"

"Yes, Captain, but that is not why I called you to the Bridge."

Kirk continued to stare at Spock's face, reaching the inevitable conclusion. "Does Bones know?" he asked quietly.

"He does not. I wished him to spend his energy on those whose eyesight can be saved."

"But Spock-" All manner of unvoiced objection struggled through Kirk's shock.

"Jim, I am alive. My brain is undamaged. The loss of eyesight is a serious inconvenience, not a complete catastrophe. I will have the glass removed when he has time. Meanwhile, there are things we need to discuss."

"I'm listening." Kirk folded his arms, leaned on the rail, and tried not to look at Spock's face. He had some idea what it was costing Spock to maintain consciousness. If he had known, he would have - No, he still would have gone to Engineering. The ship came first, always. Even now.

Spock began. "You need to be aware that, other than Mr. Scott, you are the only sighted person with sufficient training to man the Helm."

"That may change by the time we have need of a Helmsman."

"It might. Secondly, in my opinion, you will have to take command of this vessel, and there is little to be gained in putting it off."

"Spock, I don't want them to say that I grabbed the center seat at the first excuse of an opportunity. I'm a passenger. I'll man the Helm if you need it, but you're in command."

"Jim, look at me. Yes, look." Kirk did with reluctance. "Can you honestly say that I am more fit to command than you are?"

"That's not the point!"

"Captain Young was taken to Sickbay with wounds similar to mine; Lt. C'dore Sullivan left the Bridge unconscious. The only unimpaired senior officers are Mr. Scott, Dr. McCoy, and yourself. This vessel is crippled, both in hardware and personnel. Captain, which is more important: what 'they' will say, or the safety of this vessel and her crew?"

Normally Kirk could care less what anybody thought of his actions, but these circumstances were far from normal. Fortunately the safety of the _Enterprise_ and crew almost always trumped other considerations.

"Okay, Spock, you win."

Spock started to rise, and almost fell. Kirk eased him back into the seat.

"No, Spock, don't move. Stay right here til they bring a stretcher."

"I am sorry, Captain. I am weaker than I realized. Allow me to give you the Bridge communicator."

Kirk took the communicator out of Spock's open hand, and immediately called Sickbay.

"Chapel here, sir."

"I'm on the Bridge. How soon can you take Spock?"

"Has his condition deteriorated, Captain?"

"I don't know. I just got here. From his voice, you'd never know anything was wrong. But he's so weak, he can't stand up, and his face is an absolute mess. So can you give me your best guess on how much longer?"

"One moment, sir." Long pause. "Dr. McCoy says I can give Mr. Spock priority treatment at your discretion. It would take me a few minutes to locate an available stretcher, but he would go to the head of the line as soon as he arrived."

"And how long is the line?"

Chapel sighed. "Too long, Captain. It's wall-to-wall bodies down here. We've more than 120 patients, and over half of them have not yet been treated. We're doing the facial injuries first, but removing embedded glass is such a long, tedious process."

Kirk could hear the discouragement in her voice. "Have we lost anybody?"

"No, and for that I'm thankful. It's just that I wish I could help. Since I can't see, all I can do is direct traffic."

"And I'm sure you're doing an excellent job, Doctor. How many more facial injuries are waiting for attention?"

"Six, including Mr. Spock."

"How long will those five take: half an hour, or more like two hours?"

"Definitely more than half an hour, but I certainly hope it won't be as long as two."

"That's what I needed. I'll let you know if we can't wait that long. Kirk out." He put away the communicator and turned to Spock. "Would you be more comfortable lying on the floor?"

"No, Captain. The floor is cold. I have been sitting here for five hours; I can continue to sit here."

Kirk wasn't sure if Spock was just being stubborn, but decided not to press it. "Very well. What can you tell me about whatever caused all this destruction?"

"Very little, Captain. A few seconds before impact, I observed the rapid approach of something which sensor data indicated was a large electrical cloud. The term is inadequate, but I do not have a better one. When power is restored, we may be able to replay those few seconds of data, provided the computer's core memory has not been damaged."

"Did you get any impression as to whether this was a natural phenomenon?"

"I can only conjecture, and I do not place any reliance on the accuracy of my impressions." Spock paused, knowing that Kirk often treated his guesses as proven facts. "I would tend to think it a natural phenomenon, except for two things: it's rapid rate of travel, and the fact that it traveled in a straight line."

"And where was it headed?"

"If it continues on the same course, it would leave the galaxy without intersecting any occupied planetary systems. However it would skirt the border of the Klingon Neutral Zone. Entirely possible that one or more outposts have suffered damage similar to ours. But unless it changed course before it hit us, it did not originate from within the Klingon Empire."

"Where did it come from then?" Kirk glanced at Spock and quickly looked away again. The condition of his face was not going to improve anytime soon.

"Unknown, Captain. Again assuming straight-line travel, there are no planetary systems from which it could have come."

Chekov interrupted, "You mean, it came from novhere, attacked us, probably took out a couple of outposts, and then left again?"

"Doesn't sound like organized enemy action to me," put in Sulu.

"No, it doesn't," agreed Kirk. "So, the evidence is inconclusive. In fact, it might be artificially created, but not intended as a weapon. In any event, there's nothing we can do for those outposts until we get power restored. Meanwhile, we're blind, deaf, and sitting ducks. Which reminds me, any ideas on how we run this ship with less than a hundred able-bodied crewmen?"

No one answered.

"Don't tell me you haven't thought about it?"

"Yes, ve have, Keptin. Ve vere discussing that wery thing before you arrived."

"I guess we were expecting Mr. Spock to answer the question. I'm sorry, Captain. We miss the visual cues," Sulu confessed.

"I understand. Spock, are you past the point of conversation?"

"I would be glad to summarize our discussion. We are assuming that the blindness will continue for an indefinite period of time, which may not be the case."

"Right. Plan for the worst." _And pray for the best_, but he didn't say that.

"Secondly, for short periods of time, this ship can be run by a handful, as we have proved in the past."

"Yes, but four of you are blind. Scotty and I can't do it by ourselves!"

"Captain, I have no doubt that if it were necessary, you and Mr. Scott could and would run this ship by yourselves. But at present, it is not necessary. We have discussed a two-stage plan. In the short-term, each post would be manned by a sighted person teamed with a blind person who was trained for the job. A somewhat complex scheduling task, but definitely possible."

"Even for someone other than you, Spock?"

"Yes. It would merely take longer. And that is the problem with all tasks. Efficiency of operations will be significantly reduced by the necessity for communication before action."

"Sulu, could you pilot this vessel with someone standing over your shoulder reading you data?"

"I don't know, Captain. I'm sure it would make a difference who it was, and how much practice time we had, but I don't think I'd want to have to try it in a battle situation. Things just happen too fast." Sulu shook his head doubtfully, his gaze aimed somewhere past Kirk's left shoulder.

"Let's hope we don't have to. Spock, you said there were two stages?"

"Yes, Captain. If the circumstances continue, we would equip each work-station with an audio readout for all visual displays. It is unknown whether the audio output could be made to supply data fast enough."

They talked it back and forth another half hour, discussing various problems and difficulties with both stages. Chuck just listened. Grateful to have his hearing back, he found his audio sense heightened by the continued lack of sight. Kirk occasionally led the discussion with key questions, but at no time did he seem the central figure in the conversation. Rather, ideas flowed from one person to another like a well-oiled machine.

Finally Kirk called a halt, summarized their conclusions, and set Chekov and Sulu to practicing navigating the Bridge blind. Kirk then moved to Spock's side.

"Spock, are you all right?"

"Captain, that is an imprecise question. Physically, I am obviously not 'all right.' However, I am coping as well as before. I do not sense any increase in weakness or likelihood that I will lose consciousness. Mentally I am functioning normally as far as I can tell. Emotionally - I am trying not to function on that level. I will deal with the emotional trauma when the physical does not require so much of my attention."

Kirk nodded thoughtfully. "I would count it a privilege to be there when you do."

"If circumstances permit, I have no objections."

Chuck heard this exchange, and recognized another example of Kirk's 'no secrets' policy. Wondering if he might observe, he decided to wait for an invitation. They had been remarkably open with him, but there were limits. Abruptly, he realized that Kirk had moved again and was talking to him.

"Can you hear me, Chuck?"

"What? - Oh, yes. I'm fine."

"Is there anything you need at the moment?"

"No, only - I'm not sure I should ask this. Is Spock really as okay as he sounds?"

"That depends on what you mean by 'okay.' Why do you ask?"

"Well, if you've nothing more pressing to discuss, Spock had started to tell me the story of how you became Christians, but we were interrupted, and there hasn't been any opportunity to continue the narrative."

Of course, Spock had overheard the exchange. "An excellent suggestion, Mr. Byrd. If you have no objections, Captain?"

"None, Spock. Sulu, Chekov, come on back and sit down. It's story-telling time."

As Kirk watched them return, he made a mental note to spend some time working with Sulu. Meanwhile he listened to Spock's quiet, steady voice tell the tale that had changed all their lives. Occasionally he shared his perspective, as did Chekov and Sulu, but mostly they let Spock tell the story.

Spock talked for two and a half hours. Kirk marveled at Spock's control, even though he knew exactly how it was done. Spock projected the impression that he could maintain control indefinitely, but Kirk knew better. For the last half hour, he had heard increased weakness in Spock's voice. He covered it well, but he was close to the limit of his strength. So when the story wound down to a natural stop, Kirk stood up.

"Okay, Spock, it's time to go. Sulu, you have the conn. Call Sickbay and tell them we're on our way." He handed Sulu the Bridge communicator.

"Captain, I do not think-"

"I know you can't walk, Spock. I'm going to carry you."

"There is no need for such haste." The objection was quietly voiced, but no less sincere. Spock disliked being incapacitated, but he absolutely hated making a scene.

"Spock, you know as well as I do, the only way they're going to get a stretcher for you is to take it out from under someone else. Is being carried going to further endanger your medical condition?"

"No." There was an unspoken 'but' in Spock's tone.

"Are you afraid I'll drop you? Or is it beneath your dignity to be carried?"

Chuck could not believe Kirk was needling Spock at a time like this. He heard the ruffled feathers in Spock's reply.

"Captain, I have no doubts concerning your ability to carry me to Sickbay, merely its necessity. And my dignity, or lack of it, is irrelevant in this situation."

As Chekov and Sulu laughed openly, Chuck realized this was an example of Bridge crew humor. But there were nuances to this he had not grasped. Pondering it, he almost missed Kirk's low-voiced comment.

"All you'll get from me is the Lord's peace. I've asked Him to block the rest of it."

"Thank you, Captain."

Kirk left with Spock over his shoulders in a fireman's carry. Sulu called Sickbay. Chapel was not at all pleased when Sulu told her what Kirk was doing.

"Don't yell at me. I'm only the messenger. You try telling the Captain what he can't do," Sulu complained.

Chapel chuckled. "I'll leave that to Dr. McCoy."

"For what it's worth, Spock objected, but not for medical reasons."

"Oh? Then why?"

"I'm guessing, but I think he's embarrassed. Naturally he will vigorously deny it."

"I'll keep that in mind. Chapel out."

Chuck took this opportunity to voice his question. "Mr. Sulu, would you mind explaining something to me?"

"I'll try."

"Why did Kirk needle Spock? What was funny about his response? And why do you think he's embarrassed?"

Sulu laughed. "The Captain's not afraid to tease Spock, but this wasn't teasing. This was an unrehearsed act between them to reassure the rest of us that things are normal, in spite of appearances to the contrary.

"As to why it was funny: Spock is vigorously denying that dignity has anything to do with it, while at the same time, his voice is just dripping with offended dignity. And I'm sure he did it on purpose. And what makes it even funnier is that he really is bothered by having to be carried. If you could see his eyes, you'd know he was laughing at himself.

"Spock is very stubborn and drives himself relentlessly. On the few occasions when his body does not cooperate, he feels that his weakness is somehow a moral failure. He would rather be caught dead than have to be carried into Sickbay, especially when he's not even unconscious. The captain knows all that, and it wouldn't surprise me if he lets Spock walk the last few feet."


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Kirk was panting heavily by the time they reached Deck 8. Maneuvering himself and Spock out into the corridor was tricky, but they managed it, with help from the crewman on duty at the access hatch.

"Captain-"

"I know, Spock. You want to walk. Go ahead, but keep to the inner wall. There's others in the corridor. I'll be right behind you."

Spock made it all the way to Sickbay without falling. Dr. Chapel met them.

"Mr. Spock, Dr. McCoy is waiting for you in Surgery Room B. I'm sure you could find your way there, but we wouldn't want you to trip over anyone. Gisa, please escort Mr. Spock. Room B."

Kirk moved to object, but it wasn't necessary. Gisa stepped in front of Spock and spoke quietly and calmly.

"I can take your arm, or if you prefer, I can guide you by voice alone."

"I can follow you by sound, and it is not necessary that you speak."

"Very well. This way, please." Gisa glided through the rows of bodies, with Spock following unerringly. They disappeared into Room B, and Kirk turned to face the tongue-lashing he knew was coming from Chapel. To his surprise, it did not materialize.

"Captain, Mr. Spock will be here for some time. Is there something else I can help you with?" Dr. Chapel inquired mildly.

"Yes, thank you. I would like to see Captain Young."

"You can see him, but he's still unconscious."

xxxx

Gisa and Spock entered Room B.

"Dr. McCoy, I have Mr. Spock."

"Put him on the table. I'll be right there."

McCoy was in the corner washing up, with his back to the room. Gisa walked to the surgery table, turned around, and spoke quietly.

"I am standing next to the table, which is on your right. Please place your head at this end."

As Spock moved to comply, she went to fetch the sterile drapes.

"Doctor, which nurse shall I request?"

"None of them. There's nothing I need that you can't do."

"If you wish, Doctor. As I'm sure you know, I am not trained to administer medication."

"He doesn't need any anesthetic. Spock prefers to remain conscious through the most gruesome of surgeries, and I gave up arguing about it a long time ago. Just like I'm not going to argue about how he got here. He and Jim took a chance I wouldn't have taken. But they got away with it, and nothing I can say will change what they do the next time."

McCoy had been talking to Gisa. Now he turned his full attention on Spock.

"Spock! Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?! I've been looking at facial injuries for hours, and nobody's as bad as this!" Anger at being deprived of essential medical information warred with grief over the loss of Spock's eyes, and he was too tired to bother concealing any of it.

"Calm yourself, Doctor," Spock replied wearily. "There was nothing you could have done for the eyes. Please remove the glass, and if you can tidy the mess so as to avoid offending sighted crew members, that would be helpful."

McCoy sighed, and went to work. Gisa assisted ably, but without speaking. McCoy and Spock kept up a running conversation, mostly about the medical condition of the crew. By the time McCoy was finished, Spock had a complete report, including the prognosis for those with eye injuries. McCoy was fairly sure the eye bank could provide replacements for most if not all of the human patients. Young and Spock however, were a different matter, due to their hybrid gene structure.

"Spock, I have no idea how long it might take to get a Vulcan eye donor, nor how successful a match we could find."

"I am aware that the loss of eyesight may well be a permanent condition."

"Of course, the best match would probably be from your father." McCoy kept his tone casual, knowing the likely reaction.

As predicted, Spock's voice turned ice cold. "Doctor, I forbid you to make any such request. I would prefer that he remain ignorant of my condition. Since that is probably impossible, I will tell him myself, as soon as communications are restored."

"Have it your way then. I've never met two more stubborn Vulcans. If I hadn't gotten to know a few others over the years, I'd think it was a racial failing."

Spock ignored the implied insult.

"There, that's the last bit of glass. Now I need some synth-skin. Gisa, Dr. Chapel can tell you where to find it. Make sure you get the one labeled for Spock."

"Yes, sir." Gisa left quietly.

"Spock, the prognosis for Captain Young is no better than for you. I have no idea whether replacement eyes is even a possibility, however slim. And his wives tell me he won't even regain consciousness until the pain is gone."

"Perhaps I can provide some assistance to him. In any event, I am not sure there is any precedent for dealing with a situation in which both the Captain and First Officer are blind."

McCoy shook his head helplessly. "Not to mention, there's another Captain on board perfectly able to step into the gap. I'd be willing to bet Jim's not very happy right now. What a mess! And that's not counting the two-hundred-some crewmen who are temporarily blind. At least, I hope it's temporary."

xxxx

Kirk spent only a few minutes in Young's room. One look told him Young's eyes were gone too, same as Spock's. Nona told him Young would remain unconscious until no pain remained. She had no idea how long that might be.

Next he inquired of Chapel concerning the team of observers, especially Sullivan. He was told Sullivan had regained consciousness and been sent to the Rec Deck along with the others who were blind. Gliff was in Sickbay with a minor wound, awaiting treatment. Chapel did not know where the others were.

Kirk borrowed her communicator and called Uhura. Murphy was on the Rec Deck. Uhura thought Sullivan was with the group on the Hangar Deck, and Cogley was one of those sent to Engineering. Kirk called Tanis next.

"Tanis here, sir."

"Is Lt. C'dore Sullivan with your group?"

"Yes sir, he is."

"What is your assessment of his mental and emotional condition?"

"Alert and stable, sir. I've got him in charge of one of the games."

"Can you spare him for a few minutes? I need to talk to him."

"Certainly. If you'll wait, I'll take him this communicator."

"Call me in Sickbay when you have him. Kirk out."

Kirk then checked with Sulu and Scotty. No significant change.

"Tanis to Captain Kirk. I have Lt. C'dore Sullivan, sir."

"Put him on."

"Captain Kirk. Sullivan here. What can I do for you?" Sullivan's voice was more cheerful than Kirk remembered ever hearing.

"Sir, you are the senior officer aboard this vessel, and it is in this capacity that I am reporting to you. Captain Young is unconscious due to facial injuries resulting in the loss of his eyes. It is unknown when or if he will be fit to resume command of this vessel. Mr. Spock is conscious, but has also lost his eyes. There are at present only three senior officers who are not blind: Mr. Scott, Dr. McCoy, and myself.

"Under the circumstances, I am taking command of this vessel for the duration of the present crisis, pending orders to the contrary. Any objections?"

"None, Captain. You have little choice. I don't like it, but we're stuck with it. I won't argue the necessity."

"Thank you, sir. In your capacity as observer, let me inform you that I don't anticipate any officers' meetings before tomorrow morning. I'll let you know if that changes. And thank you for helping Lt. Tanis."

"You're welcome. I haven't had such fun in years. Sullivan out."

Kirk returned the communicator to Chapel with thanks. He had time for a morale-building tour of Sickbay while he was waiting for Spock - a few words of encouragement and a brief prayer for each one. He had covered no more than a third of the patients when Spock emerged from surgery.

Kirk tried to assess his condition by his appearance - as usual, a frustratingly difficult task. He was on his feet, so he was at least minimally functional. His face was unbandaged, and Kirk couldn't decide whether the green synth-skin looked any better than the green blood had. What was hardest to face was the continued absence of eyes. Kirk shook his head at himself, as he realized he had half-expected Bones to fix the eyes. McCoy was talking as Kirk approached.

"If I had any place to put you, I'd make you stay for at least 24 hours. As it is-" McCoy shrugged helplessly, forgetting that Spock couldn't see the expression. "So I'm prescribing eight hours of bed rest, and come see me sometime tomorrow. I want to check for infection."

"Thank you, Doctor."

Kirk noticed Spock made no promises regarding rest or return visits. McCoy noticed it too, and gave Kirk a grim smile, shaking his head when Kirk would have made an issue of it.

"Come on, Spock. I'll walk you to the door. Same way Gisa did it. It's single file room only in here."

When they reached the corridor, Kirk turned to Spock.

"Well, Spock, are you going to follow doctor's orders?"

"I will spend the prescribed hours in my quarters. I can make no promises about sleeping."

"Will the pain keep you awake? What about a healing trance?"

"Contra-indicated for several reasons: It would not be safe without a monitor to assist me in coming out of the trance; slapping my face would not do good things for my injury; and it would take too long. I can continue to endure the pain, but it will probably keep me awake."

"Do you want some company?" Kirk made the suggestion casual.

"No, Captain, I'm sure you have more pressing duties."

"I'll be up for several hours yet, but don't hesitate to wake me if you want to talk."

Spock strode unerringly down the corridor. Kirk prayed for him briefly before returning to Sickbay. It took him two hours to finish the tour of Sickbay patients. Then he held a brief meeting in the corridor with the 50 sighted crewmen. He divided the group in half, sending half to bed, after choosing team leaders. He sent two to life support and two to the Bridge. The rest would continue to help out in Sickbay.

Borrowing Chapel's communicator again, Kirk called Sulu on the Bridge. After advising him of the relief crew on its way, Kirk asked that the three of them meet him on the Hangar Deck in thirty minutes. Then Kirk went to the Rec Deck.

Uhura's report indicated a minimal level of competency in locomotion had been achieved by all. He dismissed them to their quarters, asking team leaders to escort those that needed it, and then to report to the Hangar Deck. He did the same thing on the Hangar Deck. Shortly thereafter he was left with a group of about thirty, made up of team leaders, supervisors, and senior officers. They sat on the floor in a circle.

"I know it's late and you're tired, but this is going to take another couple of hours." Kirk was pleased not to hear any groans of complaint. He explained the personnel situation ship-wide, and what he needed them to accomplish in the next 36 hours.

"I want two, preferably three, fully-staffed shifts able to operate this ship by the time we have power restored. Some of you will be manning those posts; some will be training others to handle their blindness so they can man those posts; some of you will be training sighted assistants. None of you will be babysitting. I expect you to turn that job over to your assistant team leaders first thing in the morning. Please report your recommendations regarding your team members' competence before you leave tonight. And report to Briefing Room One at 0800 tomorrow for your individual assignments.

"Before we go on, are there any questions?"

"Sir, I heard this blindness was temporary. It sounds like you want us to treat it as a permanent condition." The young officer tried to speak calmly and didn't quite manage it.

"I certainly hope and pray that it is temporary. But as long as the condition continues, we will treat it as a semi-permanent change. I want this ship to function with as much competence and efficiency as we did before three-fourths of us were struck blind. Other questions?"

"Captain, can you give us any information on the status of Captain Young and Mr. Spock? There have been rumors, sir."

"They, along with about a dozen others, have suffered facial injuries resulting in the loss of their eyes. For them, unless or until eye transplants can be obtained, the condition is permanent. Captain Young is in Sickbay, still unconscious. Mr. Spock was released to rest in his quarters, due to the over-crowding in Sickbay. If there are no other questions-" Silence. "I'd like to spend the rest of our time here tonight raising the standard of competence several notches higher than anything you've been asking your teams to do. We'll start with the obstacle course you have set up. So, on your feet."

For the next hour and a half, Kirk pushed them to their limits and beyond. Though he had no authority to require it, both Chuck and Sullivan participated fully. Everyone maintained a cheerful attitude and a cooperative spirit. They also tossed back and forth a wide variety of verbal teasing. Nor were they afraid of including Kirk in their remarks. A thoroughly enjoyable experience. When they were showing signs of exhaustion, he called it quits, and returned them to the circle on the floor.

He pulled two objects out of his pocket, gave one to Sullivan, the other to Sulu.

"Mr. Sulu, please tell the group what I just gave you."

"It's a rope, sir. Quarter-inch nylon, about two feet long."

"Do me a favor, and tie my hands behind my back with that rope."

"Yes, sir." Sulu grinned and readily complied.

"Mr. Tanis, would you check Mr. Sulu's work, and verify for the group that my hands are secured."

"Yes, sir. They are."

Kirk walked across the circle to Sullivan.

"Mr. Sullivan, would you describe for the group the object I gave you."

"It's a piece of cloth, about two feet by four feet. Feels like cotton."

"Very good. It's a kitchen rag that I picked up in Engineering this afternoon. Would you please tie it over my eyes so that I cannot see."

"Sure." Sullivan gave Kirk a knowing grin. He knew exactly what Kirk was up to.

"Mr. Jimson, would you verify for the group, please, that I cannot see anything."

"Yes, sir. That is correct; you can't see."

"Thank you. Now I'm going to step into the corridor while you put your heads together and decide what you want me to do. Anything at all is fair game, provided it doesn't take too long, and isn't life-threatening. You can have fifteen minutes to set it up. Somebody come get me when you're ready. Any questions?" Silence. "All right, then. Have fun!"

Kirk turned and strode unerringly to the door. There was dead silence as they listened to hear if he actually left. Which he did. Deceit was not part of his plan. Kirk knew that given the opportunity to get even, his people would ask him to do something more difficult than anything he had asked of them. Then when he did it, they would of their own accord raise the standard of their own performance to match his. And he was reasonably certain it would work even if he failed. It was his willingness to try that became the measuring stick. And that was easy to control. He spent the waiting time praying for Spock.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

When they came for him, he discovered they had half a dozen different things they wanted him to do, most of which were not difficult. They tried in various ways to get him rattled. They tried giving him too many instructions at once. They tried giving him instructions from several sources at once. They alternated listening with doing, forcing him to go faster and faster. He just laughed and stayed with it every step of the way. They finally gave up and sent him on to the next thing.

There was a game similar to the one they had set up in Engineering, but with lots more falls. Next, they wanted him to run Sullivan's obstacle course in under two minutes. No one else had done it in less than four minutes. And he hadn't done it at all. But he'd been expecting this, so he had mentally reviewed every step he was to take. He took the course on a dead run, and finished in 45 seconds flat. Absolute silence greeted the announcement of his time, as they took in the implications. Then they slowly applauded in appreciation.

"Thank you, gentlemen. But I know that several of you can beat that time easily, because you won't have your hands tied. Anyway, what's next?" Kirk asked.

Dodging people in the corridor was quite a challenge. He had to sense where they were, which direction they were going and how fast. This exercise most closely resembled a real-life problem. His people had to be able to get where they were going quickly without frequent mid-corridor collisions. He found he could do it at a slow jog, but no faster.

"I need to practice this one. But not tonight. Are we finished, or is there more?"

An unidentified voice nearby answered tentatively. "There's one more, sir, if you're not too tired."

"I'll stay if you all want to stay. If you've saved the best for last, I wouldn't want to disappoint you." Several nervous chuckles told Kirk he'd guessed right.

They led him to the far end of the Hangar Deck, and asked him to climb onto a chest-high platform, which he discovered was about three feet square.

"Now stand up and face me." This voice sounded like Sullivan's. "Find the edge of the platform. Now about four inches down, there's a rope. Can you find it?"

"Yes. My foot's touching something. If you say it's a rope, I'll believe you."

"Stand on the rope. Both feet. Now walk on the rope over to another platform exactly like the one you just left."

"As in tight-rope walking?" Kirk began walking the rope as he continued talking. "Is the point of this to see how gracefully I can fall off of here, or do you really expect me to be able to do this?"

"Does it matter?"

"No, I'm just curious. By the way, are there any rules about falling? Is it okay if I land on my feet?" Kirk's tone was casually cheerful, without a hint of anxiety.

"Since you ask, no, you may not land on your feet."

"If I'd kept my mouth shut, I could have just jumped off of here. All right, no cheating. A real fall which I don't do on purpose. Do you realize how difficult a controlled fall is with tied hands?" Kirk chuckled and answered his own question. "Of course, you do; you just don't care. I think I've passed the middle. It's amazing how small a slope can be felt."

Suddenly the rope shuddered under his feet. Kirk ignored it and went on. "Balance and traction are what's important here. The lack of sight is-" The rope was violently jerked out from under him and he fell. "- almost-" He managed to catch the rope with one leg. As he hung upside down, his head grazed the floor. He eased the rope out from behind his knee, tucked his head, rolled, and finished in an upright position, sitting on his shins. "-irrelevant.

"Well, I'm down. I didn't do it on purpose, and I certainly didn't land on my feet. That's all for tonight." He stood up. "Don't forget those recommendations before you go. Chekov, find me something to write on. Sulu, get this rope off. Tanis, I want a word with you before you go."

The group broke up slowly, and it was another half hour before Kirk was finished with the last team leader.

"Wonderful." Chuck was standing in front of him. "You have me believing I can find my quarters without a personal escort." His voice held a smile.

"I'm glad you were here tonight. It's difficult to observe in these circumstances, but participating gets you more than standing in a corner."

Chuck laughed. "I'm learning. Anyway, this observer is calling it a day. And Jim, thank you for everything."

"You're welcome, Chuck. Good night."

Kirk heard Chuck's footsteps receding across the floor, followed by the door closing. But something told him the room wasn't entirely empty.

"Who else is still here?"

"I am." It was Sullivan. "Have you taken off the blindfold?"

"I forgot about it."

Sullivan snorted in disbelief. "Don't kid me, Captain."

"I decided half an hour ago to leave it on. Does it matter?"

"Captain, when you look at me, what do you see?"

"I don't have to take off the blindfold to answer that. I see a self-disciplined man, dedicated to the Service, committed to personal integrity and the performance of his duty as he sees it. I see a man who's not afraid to apply the wisdom he's gained over the years. And this surprised me: I saw tonight a man who's not afraid to have a good time. Thank you for your assistance tonight. I value it highly."

"Captain, what is not obvious is that Starfleet is my second career. Until age 25, I was a highly acclaimed high-wire artist. My brother, my wife, and our daughter were killed in a vehicle accident. I didn't have the heart to continue. That was a long time ago. I bring it up because you've a right to know that I set you up. Have you ever been on a tightrope before?"

"No." Kirk didn't think it was a big deal.

"But you have an amazing sense of balance. Incidentally I knew you were sliding, not walking. Exactly what I would have done in the same circumstances: no experience, no skill, no traction between your boots and the rope, no balance pole, and most important, with your hands tied, you were inevitably off-balance. There was not one chance in a hundred that you would get all the way across. But when you got past the middle, I couldn't risk the possibility that you would succeed, so I jerked the rope out from under you. And may I congratulate you on a superb fall. With the advantage of feeling it through the rope, I know what you did."

"It worked better than I had any right to expect. Sir, no disrespect intended, but why are you giving me all this explanation? I told you it didn't matter. Do you think I object to being set up? I asked for it, and you all gave me exactly what I was after."

Sullivan was obviously upset about something. "Your people do not know that I made you fall, nor do they know that you probably would have succeeded if I had not jerked on the rope. Furthermore, they do not understand what a feat it would have been if you had gotten across. Indeed, success was not even considered. The whole point was to gauge your willingness to do something you'd never done before, were certain to fail at, and might very likely get hurt falling from such a height."

"I know, and it worked, so what's the problem?"

"Why don't you care that I made you fall, that I forced you to fail in front of your people? And you still haven't asked me why I did it."

This appeared to be the real issue, so Kirk answered carefully. "First of all, I expected to fall, as soon as I understood what you wanted me to do. The only question was when. Secondly, I don't consider falling to be a failure. Failure would have been unwillingness to do because of fear of falling. As to why you did it, I thought maybe you could read my mind. As soon as I passed the half-way point, I began to wonder if I had been too hasty in promising not to fall on purpose. If I had gotten all the way across, then I'd have had several people trying to copy the feat, and Sickbay doesn't need any more injuries right now. So again, I thank you for your assistance."

"I apologize, Captain. It's a rarity to meet a starship captain for whom personal ego is not a significant factor when considering a course of action. I may have seriously misjudged both you and this entire situation. I must give this more thought. Good night, Captain." He needed no help to find the exit.

Kirk took off the blindfold. Examining his notes, he was pleased to be able to decipher what he had written. Turning to look at the tightrope, he concluded it was just as well he hadn't been able to see. Sometimes, ignorance was bliss.

Leaving the hangar deck, Kirk made his way to Spock's quarters. He hesitated over whether to disturb him, but decided he probably wasn't sleeping anyway. He rang the buzzer.

"Come."

"Spock, are you resting? Shall I come back later?"

"Come in, Captain. Please sit down. Forgive me for not getting up. The pain is more manageable if I do not move my head." Spock was lying on the bunk, flat on his back, his hands laced across his chest.

Kirk sat in the chair. "Spock, are you sure you don't want any pain medication? I could get Bones to make a house call if you don't want to move."

"No, Captain, I do not wish to be deprived of my ability to think."

"How about your ability to feel? Is it still on hold, pending a reduction in pain?"

"The pain is not yet significantly reduced, but there is no longer the same need for outward control. I have been aware of my emotions for several hours."

Kirk shuddered at the probable intensity of those emotions, but none of it showed, except for the rigidity of his stillness, and that could be entirely physically based. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked quietly.

Spock didn't hesitate. "I do not have much practice in describing emotions. There is anger, as if I have a right to eyesight that has been been wrongfully taken away. I have often heard the phrase, 'it's not fair,' and wondered what bearing fairness had on the situation. Now I believe I have experienced the emotion that triggers such a comment.

"There is a certain curiosity concerning what life will be like without eyesight - what changes I will have to make in personal routines, in data-gathering and -processing devices, and what additional training I need in order to effectively use other senses to compensate for the loss of sight.

"Of more concern is how this loss will affect my relationships with others. For instance, I'm sure you would be willing to play chess with me, because you know I can remember the positions of each piece on the board. However, would you be equally willing to engage in unarmed combat with me?"

"You would be at a serious disadvantage, unless I donned a blindfold, in which case, you would undoubtedly beat the pants off me." Kirk grinned at the idea, in spite of the present circumstances.

"Possibly; however, that would not aid me in achieving mastery over the blindness. I will need to train with someone who is willing to take advantage of my weakness repeatedly, until I can find a way to erase the disadvantage. Knowing what I am after, you can force yourself to do what I need. How many others aboard this vessel could and would do that for me? And combat training is only one of many areas of need. If I cannot successfully retrain myself, I will have to resign my position in Starfleet. I would prefer not to have to do that." The slight emphasis on the word _prefer_ hinted at the depth of understatement in that conclusion.

Kirk nodded absently and probed further. "You mentioned anger and curiosity. Are there others?"

"Yes. There is a pervading sense of grief over the loss. As I contemplate it, I find the emotion tied not to the ordinary things of life, nor even to the loss of my work in Starfleet, should that become necessary. The thing I will miss the most is the ability to see the things of beauty that God has made. Memory will suffice for those I have already seen, but what of new discoveries? I can find ways to measure and obtain data, but I will not be able to _see_ what they look like. That loss I grieve."

"I grieve with you."

There was a short silence. Kirk was reluctant to break it, but there was a pressing question.

"Spock, what are you going to do with the anger?"

"I have already done it: confess it as sin, forsake it, give it to the Lord. He has permitted the Enemy to remove my eyesight. I will trust him, even in this. I do not know his purpose, but this is clear: that Captain Young has suffered the same fate. If I can be of assistance to him, I shall do what I can to help.

"Meanwhile, my required rest period will be over in 2.4 hours. Shall I assist Mr. Scott, or do you have other needs?"

"Spock, are you really going to be fit for duty in another two and a half hours?"

"Yes, although I would prefer to put off the combat training for at least half a day."

"You want me to fight you injured as well as blind!? Don't tell me you're going to be pain-free in twelve hours."

"My opportunities to work with you are severely limited. I cannot afford to wait."

"Okay, I'll see what I can arrange. Meanwhile, I have a personnel problem."

They spent another half hour discussing deployment of personnel for the next day. Then Kirk turned in for a few hours sleep.

xxxx

Spock rose at 0600. Having actually slept for two hours, he was rested, had pain management well in hand, and felt emotionally ready to face the day. His first task of the day was a visit to Captain Young. Gisa was with him.

"Good morning, ma'am. How is the Captain?"

"Mr Spock! I did not expect to see you out of bed. How did you know I was here?"

"You have a distinctive perfume. Is the Captain still unconscious?"

"Yes. I'm afraid the pain must be very severe."

"It is. If you will permit it, I can help him."

"What do you mean?" Gisa took a step toward him.

"It is a Vulcan technique. I will join my mind with his and take some of his pain."

"I have heard of the Vulcan mind-meld, but how do you mean to take his pain?"

"In the meld, his pain becomes mine. When I withdraw, I take it with me, and then he no longer has it. It is useful in promoting healing."

"I do not understand how you can tolerate your own pain, much less his too. But assuming you can in fact do this, why do you wish to?" Her tone suggested the idea was completely incomprehensible to her.

"Because I can, because he has a need, because the Lord asked me to, and because this vessel needs her Captain."

A short silence indicated she was trying to process all that. She latched onto the last phrase as something concrete. "I understood Captain Kirk had taken command."

"He has, but only for as long as necessary given the current crisis."

"Does Captain Kirk know you are here?"

"No, but he will not be surprised, nor will Dr. McCoy."

"Very well, you have my permission."

Spock approached the bed and put his fingers on Young's face. He staggered under the impact of the wave of pain that hit him. After a few brief moments, he withdrew.

"I was only able to assimilate a small portion of his pain. I will return later today, as duty permits."

"Thank you, Mr. Spock."


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Briefing Room One was crowded. Designed for 25, it presently contained over 40. Last night's group from the hangar deck had been augmented by a dozen sighted personnel. Kirk surveyed the room, then asked Spock if everyone had arrived.

"All present, Captain."

Kirk never doubted that Spock knew, though he saw puzzled looks on a few faces. He kept his remarks brief.

"Good morning, gentlemen. I trust you all recognize the sound of my voice, but for the duration of the present circumstances, anyone speaking in an official capacity will begin by identifying themselves. So, this is Captain Kirk speaking. I have taken command of this vessel temporarily due to the incapacitation of Captain Young. Mr. Scott expects to have power restored within 24 hours. The goal of this group is to have sufficient personnel capable of manning this vessel by the time power is restored. Dr. McCoy is hopeful that the blindness experienced by most personnel is temporary in nature. However he has not as yet had any time to devote to the question. To my knowledge, there have been no reports of returning sight. Therefore we will proceed on the assumption that blind personnel will remain blind for an indefinite period of time. Should that time extend beyond the restoration of power, Mr. Spock will be working closely with Mr. Scott to design auditory data outputs for each workstation. Meanwhile, each post will have to be manned by a team of two: one blind person trained for the post, and one sighted person not trained for the post, but there to be eyes for the blind.

"In order for sighted personnel to understand what's being asked of blind personnel, I'm scheduling a training session on the hangar deck at 1900 this evening. Find a blindfold and be wearing it before you enter the hangar deck. Training session to last for two hours. And blind personnel, please do not tell them what to expect. And I'll see all of _you_ on the hangar deck at 2100. Mr. Spock has duty assignments for each of you. Please see him before you leave. Dismissed."

Spock spent most of the day in Engineering. Scotty called him a godsend, insisting he was worth more than any two others combined, even if he was blind. Spock didn't believe him, but nonetheless was reasonably satisfied with his ability to function. But it annoyed him to note how his emotional equilibrium was affected by the knowledge that he was not as useless as he had feared.

At lunch time he made a brief visit to Sickbay. McCoy declared him infection-free, but insisted on a follow-up visit on each of the next three days. When Spock began to protest the necessity, McCoy retorted,

"You're just lucky I'm too tired to ask how you're coping with this!"

Spock replied calmly, "I do not believe in luck, Doctor." And he departed before McCoy could respond. This comment reassured McCoy that Spock _was_ coping.

Going to Young's room, Spock found Nona with him this time. Explaining himself as before, he received permission and took a little more of Young's pain. It was his intention to return at dinner time, but he was delayed in Engineering and did not have time before the 1900 training session, for which Kirk had asked his assistance.

Kirk pushed the trainees past their limits. He yelled, he quietly persuaded, he refused to accept 'I can't' for an answer. He used Spock, Chuck, and Sullivan for assistants, never pointing out to anyone their blindness, but rather quietly taking for granted that they could do what he needed. And they could.

After almost two hours of intense work, he sat them down in a circle and told them to take off the blindfolds.

"Now tell me what you learned."

Various responses: gratitude for eyesight, amazement at what they could do when pushed; one said he forgot he was wearing a blindfold.

"Yes! That's what I'm after - to become so comfortable with the lack of sight that you forget there is any other way.

"Our time is up. Thank you all for coming. I hope that you will remember this session in the days to come as you work with blind colleagues. I could use three or four of you as assistants in the next two hours - strictly voluntary - and any who want to stay and watch are welcome. Dismissed."

As one group left and the other assembled, Kirk ran the obstacle course twice - once with sight, and once without - 30 seconds and 35 seconds respectively. Spock decided to stay and participate. His time was 25 seconds. Kirk asked for his help on the corridor dodge exercise. They worked together on it for almost an hour, after which Kirk and Spock could do it on a dead run without hitting anyone, and several others were getting there.

Sulu called them over to the tightrope. Word had gotten out accidentally that Sullivan had made him fall. So they wanted him to do it again without interference. Kirk sensed an undercurrent of animosity towards Sullivan.

"You want to see me fall off again? Once wasn't enough?" He tried to make it joke, but they wouldn't let it go.

"Sullivan doesn't think you would have fallen."

"And you all are angry because you think he cheated. The purpose of the exercise was not to find out if I could walk the tightrope, but to find out if I would refuse to try. Is the answer to that question in doubt because of the way in which I fell?"

"Well, no, but..."

"But you still feel cheated. Okay, I'll do it again under one condition: whether I succeed or fail, no one tries tightrope walking without coaching from Sullivan. Understood?"

A chorus of 'Yes, sir's.

"Anybody know what happened to the rope we used on my hands?" He hadn't bothered to tie his hands so far that evening.

"You can do it without the hands tied."

"I thought you wanted an exact replay."

"I found it. Here it is, Captain."

They secured his hands and Kirk climbed up onto the platform. Somewhat to his surprise, he found the prospect of repeating last night's stunt a little daunting. Setting aside how he felt about it, he did not allow himself to hesitate. Once on the rope, his attention was focused entirely on the task. After a moment, he spoke.

"Sorry, guys. I forgot I should be talking so you know where I am. You might be interested to know that this doesn't get easier the second time. Quite the contrary, in fact. In spite of Sullivan's assessment, I do not expect to succeed. And if I manage to avoid getting hurt when I fall, it won't be because of any skill on my part. Incidentally, my walk is a sideways sliding step. I am not actually picking up one foot and putting it in front of the other. And as I said last night, balance is everything. The fact that I can't see the rope doesn't matter at all. I wouldn't be looking at it even if I could see it.

"I'm well past the middle, but that means nothing. This is scary because of falling onto a surface I can't see. Last night, I managed to hook a leg on the rope and ease myself down. Chances of that happening again are not high. And I learned yesterday that blind belly-flops are emotionally difficult. My instinct is to curl up and roll, but I can't do that with my hands tied. And a belly-flop only works if you're completely relaxed.

"I'm grateful to be proved wrong. I've reached the other side. If you're satisfied, the fastest way off of here is to jump, but I'd rather not land on anybody, so if you'd step back out of range, I'd appreciate it. By the way, I want to clarify that I am not angry with Sullivan for making me fall, nor am I angry with you all for asking me to do this twice."

He jumped off the platform, landing on his feet.

"We're out of time for tonight. I doubt we'll have the leisure for such fun and games tomorrow night, but we'll leave the equipment up for a few days in case anyone wants to practice on their own. Dismissed."

The room emptied quickly. Everyone was tired. Kirk sensed someone was still there. Instinct told him it was Spock.

"Don't say it. I know what you're thinking."

"Indeed?"

"That I should have asked someone to untie my hands before I dismissed them."

"Allow me, Captain."

Spock removed the rope and they started walking to the door.

"Captain, why do you not also remove the blindfold?"

"I put it on to remind me what I am asking of blind personnel."

"I understood that, but the training session is over."

Kirk stopped walking and sighed. "I don't want to have to face the reality that I have eyes and you don't. Even this morning, I found myself avoiding looking at you, because you sound normal and I could pretend nothing was wrong. Classic case of denial. I don't know how you manage to avoid it. Or do you?"

"Ruthlessly. I do not have time for lengthy grieving, nor do you. Jim, I need you."

"Spock, I want to help. I would give you my eyes if I could. But how can I stop grieving?" It wasn't a complaint so much as a genuine question.

"You cannot do for me what I need unless you have emotionally accepted the fact of my blindness. If you are willing, I can accelerate the process for you."

Willingness wasn't the issue. "Your quarters or mine?"

"The free fall court is closer."

"You mean to go through with this combat training tonight?"

"You will not have time tomorrow, and I must know if it can be done."

"All right. Let's go."

Just outside the hangar deck, they encountered Chuck.

"Sullivan asked me to wait for you. He thinks you two are up to something and are more likely to let me in on it than himself. Is he right?"

"You're welcome, but he would be too. We're going to the free fall court."

Kirk explained en route, still not taking off the blindfold. There was nothing in the way they moved to indicate that none of them could see where they were going. When they arrived, Chuck found a corner so as to be out of the way.

Spock turned to face Kirk. "Jim, I don't think you realize the intensity of emotional pain involved in what I am proposing to do to you."

"Probably not, but does that matter?" Spock knew it didn't, so why bother talking about it?

"It is a question of informed consent."

"No amount of explanation will make me change my mind. So let's get on with it."

"Very well. Please take off the blindfold." Kirk did without further hesitation. "Look at my face. When I am finished, this form will seem normal to you. But first I must see what you see. Do not close your eyes or look elsewhere."

Spock established mental contact and did not speak aloud again. For about twenty minutes, there was no sound except their breathing. It appeared to Chuck that Spock's breathing remained calm and controlled, while Kirk's grew increasingly ragged. Other than the breathing, there was no outward display of emotion, but it was clear to Chuck that Kirk was undergoing significant emotional trauma. Finally Kirk's breathing returned to normal and he spoke.

"Thank you."

"It is I who thank you. Both for what you have just endured, and for what I am about to ask of you."

"I won't waste time arguing the necessity. What do you want me to do?"

"Free-style, hand-to-hand, anything goes, no time limit."

"You want me to beat the tar out of you, and keep doing it until you figure out how to stop me."

"Yes."

Without warning, Kirk delivered a solid punch to the jaw, followed up with two blows to the midsection, and would have finished it with a chopping blow to the back of the neck, but Spock counter-attacked, and he found himself on the defensive instead. They sparred for over half an hour. Several times Kirk thought he was winning, but Spock repeatedly surprised him in his ability to sense where Kirk was.

"Stop." Spock called a halt, and Kirk froze mid-move and dropped his arms.

Spock continued. "You are being too nice. Your moves are very predictable. You are not really trying to incapacitate me."

"Neither are you." It was a childish retort, but Kirk didn't care.

"That is irrelevant. Not once have you tried to attack my eyes." Kirk shuddered at the thought. "But that is exactly what an enemy would do." Spock paused. "Jim, I know this is difficult, but you _can_ do it. The question is, will you? I will ask no one else."

A long moment of silence. Kirk knew Spock was staking his future with Starfleet on the outcome of this encounter. Were he in Spock's place, he would have done the same, and counted the risk to his injury a small price to pay. Further, if Spock were in his place, he would comply without counting the emotional cost to himself. Kirk could do no less.

"Yes, I will," he responded.

What followed was magnitudes more ferocious, and made the previous sparring seem like child's play. Chuck was not certain how he could tell, because neither of them made a sound other than their breathing and the sound of bodies colliding and landing on the floor.

At one point, Kirk had Spock in a vulnerable position. With his fingers poised over Spock's face, Kirk hesitated. Spock knew it, grabbed Kirk's wrists and furiously threw him to the floor. Kirk was winded, and wryly amused. He knew Spock wasn't angry, but the message was clear nonetheless. He got up and renewed the attack, this time without hesitation.

Twice more Kirk almost got Spock's eyes. Though he attacked mercilessly without hesitation, Spock forced him back each time.

"Enough, Spock. You may be able to keep this up all night, but I can't. From now on you'll get diminishing returns because of fatigue. Can we call it quits?"

"I believe the question has been sufficiently answered in the affirmative."

"You must have a king-sized headache."

"Rest for the remainder of the watch would be prudent."

Something about that statement raised Kirk's suspicions. "Why do I get the impression you don't intend to rest?"

"I plan to spend the next several hours at Captain Young's bedside."

"Doing what?" He was afraid he knew.

"It is my goal that he regain consciousness before we reach Outpost 67."

"Spock! There are limits, even for you."

"This is doable, a few minutes at a time." He sounded certain.

Kirk gave up arguing. "I agree it needs doing. Do you intend to work a duty shift tomorrow besides?"

"Most of two shifts, as usual."

"I'll see you on the Bridge then at 0700. You go ahead. I'll debrief Chuck."

"As you wish, Captain. And Jim, thank you."

"You are welcome." Spock departed and Kirk turned to Chuck. "Any questions?"

"What was that about Captain Young? What is Spock going to do?"

"Young won't regain consciousness until he's pain-free. Spock's going to take it."

"Take his pain? How? And what's he going to do with it?"

"By mind-meld. Once he's taken it from Young, he'll give it to Jesus."

"I don't understand."

"Have you ever experienced a Vulcan mind-meld?"

"No."

"Well, I have, and I still don't understand it."

"What was that about Outpost 67?"

"Spock knows that as soon as we have power, I will head for the two outposts probably hit by whatever hit us, one of which is 67. Within a few days, I will have to decide whether to stay with the _Enterprise_, or take the position at Outpost 67. If Young is conscious and functional, my decision is clear. If not, most difficult."

"Spock's going to wake Young up so you will have to leave, and I gather at quite a cost to himself? Your objection was not whether he should but whether he could."

"I know better than to object to that either. If Spock says he can, then he can."

"But why does he want to? Surely, no one would require it."

"He requires it of himself."

xxxx

Spock entered Young's room and found Nona at his bed.

"Good evening, ma'am. I now have several hours to devote to the task of relieving his pain, if you will permit."

"It is true that you seemed to do him no harm, but I have been thinking. It would be in your best interest for him to remain unconscious. I must know your true motives, but I know of only one way to find out, and being Vulcan, you are not likely to permit it."

"What do you propose?"

She spoke tentatively, as if reluctant even to voice the idea. "A Morenan woman can sense the emotion of a man with whom she is in physical contact. It is not a single touch, but a series of touches designed to heighten physical sensation. The pheromones enhance the reception."

"You are a married woman."

"Yes," she stated emphatically. "I would not do this without Gisa here as a witness. You may not return the touch, and any lust the encounter produces would remain unfulfilled."

"That is not a concern. I am unaffected by Morenan pheromones. My principal concern is the danger to you. Vulcans maintain personal shields most of the time. I can lower those shields to enable you to sense my emotions. I am not certain I can do so while continuing to maintain adequate protection for you against the pain I carry. If I cannot, you would lose consciousness until I could take back the pain I had given you. Would my touch be permitted long enough to accomplish that?"

"Yes, with Gisa as a witness."

"Then the risk is acceptable. If you wish, I will find Gisa and return."

"Please do."

Spock was back a few minutes later, having found Gisa in Ward B.

"Spock said you needed me. Is husband worse?" Gisa asked.

"No. Spock, excuse us, but I can explain more quickly in Morenan."

"As you wish."

The ladies chattered for several minutes. Spock gathered that Gisa was raising objections. Finally Gisa acquiesced and Nona returned to Standard.

"Gisa agrees to witness."

"Does this action violate a cultural taboo?"

Nona sighed. "Even with Gisa as witness, husband will have the right to reject me as wife. Gisa wished to volunteer, but it is my responsibility as first wife."

"One can hope he will exercise as much wisdom in keeping you as he showed in choosing you."

"You are kind, but I was chosen for him. Gisa was his choice."

That raised other issues, but Spock didn't voice them. "No further questions. Do you have instructions?"

"Contact must be skin to skin. Please remove your garments from the waist up."

Spock complied without hesitation. Nona approached slowly, and Spock lowered his shields. Her touch was a gentle caress which to his surprise was not unpleasant. His awareness of her was dominated by the depth of her love for Young.

After a moment, she spoke. "You are surprised. You expected more of an attack. Do not be deceived. As I go deeper, it gets more aggressive." She paused, clearly reluctant to continue.

"Do not be afraid to do what you must."

So she did, and Spock let her probe deeper and deeper, patiently enduring the attack on his person. Finally she spoke again.

"You hide nothing from me. I find no hate or evil thought in your soul. There are no walls, except this one." And she put her hands on Spock's face. He did not flinch. She continued to probe his face. "I do not sense any self-protection. Rather your concern is for me. But I must know what is behind this wall. Will you take it down?"

"No, I will not. But if you continue in your present activity, you will very likely punch a hole in it. Gisa, catch her when she falls."

Nona's thumbs were lightly poised on Spock's eye sockets.

"Don't make me do this to you," she pleaded.

"The decision is yours, but I will not be angry with you."

Nona took a deep breath, pressed her thumbs into Spock's eye sockets, gasped, and slumped to the floor. Spock staggered slightly at the increased pain.

"Gisa, please guide my hand to Nona's face." She did, and he established contact immediately. Removing the blanket of pain quickly, he withdrew and broke the contact. She blinked and opened her eyes.

"That is what you will do to husband? How can you? The pain is so great - I had no idea! How can you contain it? And why did you calmly stand here and allow me to multiply your pain?"

"That is four questions. To answer the first: essentially yes, but his pain is much greater than yours. Given the level of my own pain, I cannot contain all of his at once. Therefore I will repeat the process as many times as necessary. The second and third questions contain so much emotional tone that I suspect you are not asking for a technical explanation. Perhaps you could rephrase the questions more precisely. The fourth question: because your action was logical and the increased pain an unavoidable necessity. Do not distress yourself."

"Then you really aren't angry?" She didn't sound convinced.

"Touch me and see for yourself."

She backed up. "That will not be necessary. I believe you."

"Then may I be allowed to get dressed?"

"Of course. Forgive me; you must be cold."

Spock spent the next four hours at Young's bedside. Every few minutes he reached out, touched his face, and took a little more of his pain. Such was their trust in him that Gisa and Nona curled up on the bed and went to sleep. They were still sleeping at 0600 when Spock left. No one saw his haggard face, and only Chapel heard his staggering gait as he departed Sickbay.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

An hour later, Kirk scrutinized him carefully as they met on the Bridge, but if he saw anything amiss, it wasn't bad enough to comment on, for which Spock was grateful.

Engineering had managed to open the decompression hatch about 0300 that morning. By 0720 they had the lift working all the way from Engineering to the Bridge. They spent the morning replacing virtually every circuit in every piece of equipment on the Bridge. And Scotty said it was like that all over the ship.

Kirk was happiest when the sensors were finally on line about 1230. Spock reported no vessels in the immediate vicinity. Communications was up about an hour later. Kirk asked Uhura to send full details to Starfleet. At 1400 they were underway to Outpost #72, which was closer than #67.

"Scotty, how soon can you give me Warp 8?"

"Considerin' we've been shut down this long, ye'd best gi' me an hour ta check th' mix. After that, ye c'n ha' full power."

"Chekov, given what Scotty just said, what's our ETA at 72?"

"Approximately noon tomorrow, Keptin."

"Uhura, send that to 72, and see if you can raise 67 as well, though I can't predict when we'll get there."

Weapons were on line at 1600 and Kirk began to relax. His senior Bridge crew were all there, busily running their sighted assistants through simulation after simulation. One surprise was that Spock had chosen Sam Cogley as his assistant - a surprise only until Kirk overheard Sam rattle off numbers to Spock as fast as they appeared on the screen - well, almost as fast.

That evening Kirk sought out McCoy. He was just coming out of surgery, and he looked exhausted.

"Bones, you look terrible! Haven't you had _any_ rest?"

"Eye surgery is exhausting even if I'm not already on the ragged edge."

They walked into McCoy's office.

"Sit down. I know you're here for a report." McCoy put his feet on the desk. "I haven't got time for a written report."

"Just give me the five-minute version."

"I'll make it twenty minutes. It'll take that long to prep for the next surgery. All patients have been treated. We haven't lost anybody. Most of them are well on the way to recovery. A few showing signs of infection bear watching. I'm in the middle of the eye replacement surgeries. Too soon to tell which ones will take, but the sooner I get them done, the more likely they'll not be rejected."

"What about Young?"

"I told you yesterday I can't replace Young's and Spock's eyes. I don't have anything that will match." McCoy gave Kirk a bleak look, knowing what the lack of eyes would do to their future.

"Any idea how long before Young recovers consciousness?"

"No, but sooner than later if Spock has his way. I suppose you know he was in here for hours last night?"

"Yes, he told me he was going to."

"I bet he didn't tell you what it will cost him."

Kirk straightened up in alarm. "What do you mean?"

"I can tell by the way he walks that he's not asking for a miracle. He's simply carrying all that pain. That means it will take two or three times as long for his own injury to heal, if it ever does. When I asked him about it, he brushed me off with typical Vulcan stubbornness."

Kirk processed that in silence for a moment, then changed the subject. "Bones, is there anything in the regs that requires you to declare an officer unfit to command simply because he's blind?"

"No there isn't, not in so many words, because it never occurred to anyone that it would be attempted. Mind you, I'd have to see a pretty convincing demonstration before I'd believe Young could effectively command this vessel."

"What about Spock?"

"You want to turn command over to Spock?" Neither voiced the idea that he could simply stay in command himself and blame the crisis for the necessity.

"Never mind what I want. Could it be done?"

"Well, I'm more ready to believe it's possible, because Spock is Spock, but I'd still have to be convinced."

"I think we can arrange a sufficiently convincing demonstration when the time comes. Meanwhile, any theories on the temporary blindness?"

"I'm sure you don't want the technical explanation. I've examined a fair sample, and yes, I do think it's temporary. But there's no telling when sight will return."

"Are we talking days, weeks, or what?"

"Probably days, and it may vary considerably from person to person. If I had to guess, I'd say recovery would be longest for those in Engineering, anyone on the Rec deck when the big screen blew, and everybody who was on the Bridge."

"You always have such cheerful news." A wry grin made a brief appearance.

"Think of it this way: By the time your Bridge crew can see, the rest of the ship should be getting back to normal."

xxxx

That night Spock spent a full eight hours with Young. The next morning, Kirk met him in the 'lift on the way to the Bridge.

"Spock, I need you functional, too."

"I am aware of that, Captain." He wasn't bothering to hide his condition.

"I can only give you a few days at most. That's an awfully fast learning curve."

"We can but try."

"The one you have to convince is McCoy. Speaking of which, I was hoping to stage a demonstration this evening, but you don't look in any shape for a fight."

Spock cocked his head, but still didn't erase the pain from his posture. "What time?"

"If you can't win, we shouldn't do it."

Calling on reserves of energy, Spock drew himself up, suddenly the picture of Vulcan stubbornness. "A short but brutal fight should be sufficiently convincing. The stamina for a long fight could be a problem."

Kirk gave in without further argument. "1900, then, if the situation at Outpost 72 permits."

xxxx

Upon arrival at Outpost 72, Kirk assembled a landing party to assess the damage: Spock, McCoy, Scotty, and himself. Spock cocked his head slightly, a gesture which Kirk interpreted as akin to the raised eyebrow, which Spock could no longer do. Kirk left Sulu the conn and they made their way to the transporter room, grateful the lift was working.

"Spock, how much do you know about the layout of this outpost?"

"Basic design only. There may have been recent changes of which I am unaware. Also I know nothing of furnishings."

"Do you want help, or do you want me to let you sink or swim on your own?"

"Unless I am about to injure someone, I would prefer to avoid an overt display of a need for assistance."

"And McCoy won't be fooled by subtle help either, so you're on your own. I'll do my best to ignore your disability."

"Thank you, Captain."

They joined the others in the transporter room. Kirk kept the briefing short.

"We've been unable to establish communications. Sensors show life-form readings and breathable air."

"How many, Jim?"

"A full complement at this post would be ten. They may be short-staffed. We're showing seven alive. Let's go see what we're dealing with. Gentlemen?" He gestured them onto the pads. "Energize."

They materialized in an area that appeared to be living quarters. One man rose to greet them.

"Captain, you've come just in time. We'd about given up hope that rescue would be in time for Cal and Bernie. Do you have a doctor with you?"

"Yes. Bones?" McCoy was already moving.

They discovered that four were injured, two seriously. Two more were blinded and only one escaped unscathed. They were indeed short-handed, and had not had fatalities. Every single crystal had been shattered and they had not been able to construct so much as a distress beacon out of the remains. Life support was on battery power and nearing exhaustion.

"Scotty, have we got what they need and can we spare it?"

"Aye, Cap'n. At least enough to make do wi'."

"If 67 is in similar shape, we don't have time to stay here for repairs. Can you beam over what's needed along with two people to stay and make repairs, while we go on to 67? Not you and not Spock. And how long will it take you?"

"About a half-hour," Scotty estimated.

"Make it twenty minutes. Bones, can you beam the two badly injured over to treat in Sickbay, and patch up the other two right here? I'd like to be underway as soon as possible."

McCoy looked up from his work briefly. "I'll do what I can, Jim. Some things can't be rushed."

"Spock, we've got four blind and one sighted person. I've no idea if Scotty's sending sighted technicians. We've got maybe 15 or 20 minutes to orient these people to blindness."

"Perhaps that won't be necessary, Captain. They may have already adapted."

Kirk raised his voice. "How about it, guys? Who's in charge here?"

"Cal was the commanding officer, sir. I'm second in command. My name's Rick. And we'll take all the help we can get. What did you have in mind?"

"Spock, I'll leave you to it. Let me know if you want assistance." Kirk backed up and sat down to watch, feigning casual indifference.

Spock explained in concise detail for about five minutes the process involved in using other senses to compensate for the lack of sight. He then opened it up for questions.

A man in the back answered. "No disrespect intended, sir, but that sounds like a classroom lecture written by someone who's never in their life had to deal with blindness."

"You desire some proof that it can be done. Quite understandable. By sound, I can estimate the size of this room to be approximately 16x20 in addition to the bunks. You all are seated around a table in the middle of the room. Mr. Scott has left the room in the company of your sighted crewman. Captain Kirk is seated in a lounge chair behind me and to my left.

"Adding the sense of smell, I can locate Dr. McCoy to my right, the food replicator on the far wall, and the sanitation facilities beyond that. The sense of taste is not needed at this time. Perhaps one of you would like to exercise the sense of touch. Any volunteers?"

"I'll volunteer." It was Rick.

Spock walked unerringly to his side. "Please stand, sir. Explore my face with your fingers, and tell the group your impressions."

"But - You're a Vulcan!" Rick sputtered even as he stood to comply.

"That is irrelevant for purposes of this demonstration."

So Rick touched Spock's face and discovered-

"You have no eyes! You're blind too! Why didn't you say so?"

"The evidence of touch is far more convincing than a verbal description."

For the next few minutes, Spock drilled them in basic locomotion by sound. Then he discussed briefly what they would have to do to adjust equipment for audio readouts. By this time, McCoy and Scotty were finished, so they said their goodbyes, promising to return in about a week.

Kirk, Spock, and McCoy were in the lift, en route to Bridge and Sickbay, respectively.

"Jim, I know you staged that little show for my benefit."

"What show, Bones?" The mock innocence was a little overdone.

"I won't deny I'm impressed that Spock could describe a room like that just by sound and smell. But nothing about that situation was dangerous. What if we'd been in a room full of hostiles?"

The lift opened on deck 8 and McCoy stepped out. Kirk called after him.

"Come and see. 1900 in the gym." The doors closed on McCoy's startled look.

xxxx

Kirk had wanted an audience, not just McCoy, but enough sighted personnel to convince the crew that Spock could in fact handle himself. The size of the crowd however, was overwhelming. Kirk found to his surprise that he was nervous. At first he thought it was because of all the people, but after a moment's thought, he decided it was because so much was riding on the outcome. _Trust the Lord to work it out_, he told himself. Then another thought struck him.

"Spock, how are we going to convince everybody the fight's not rigged?"

"You do not think they will believe your word?"

"They would say they did, but incontrovertible proof would be better."

"Perhaps if they dictated the terms and conditions of the fight, possibly without your even knowing what they are," Spock suggested. He appeared to be in lecture mode, his hands clasped behind him.

But Kirk wasn't fooled. This was not going to be a bit of friendly sparring just for fun. He nodded, no need to rehash what was at stake. "That might work."

He addressed the crowd. "Thank you all for coming. The purpose of this demonstration is to establish whether Spock can fight a sighted enemy and win. I get to be the enemy. Those of you who've seen us work out together know that, other things being equal, Spock can win against me every time. Now that things are not equal, can he still do it?

"In order to give you some reassurance that the fight is not rigged, I'm going to step into the corridor for a few minutes. While I'm gone, I want you to come up with terms and conditions of the fight that Spock can make happen without my knowledge. When you're ready, send someone to get me. Just remember, when I come back through that door, I'm an enemy out to get Spock, if it's the last thing I do." He turned and strode briskly out the door.

Spock stood quietly in the center of the mat waiting for instructions. Those in the crowd who could see simply stared at him. Those who could not see could feel the tension and uncertainty in the air. So could Spock.

"Do you not understand the Captain's instructions? We want you to dictate the terms of the fight, so as to make it impossible for us to have prearranged it to look as if I had won, if in fact I could not. If we both knew the dictated terms, it would be possible for us to engineer a false conclusion without having to discuss or rehearse it. However, since the Captain will know none of your instructions, his only option will be to fight to win and trust me to carry out your dictates. Does that clarify?"

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" It was an ensign from Security.

"Of course."

"I think I understand the Captain's instructions. What I don't understand is how he can do such a thing. I mean, I'm sitting here looking at your face, and pardon me, sir, but it's an awful mess. And so fresh - it's obviously a new injury. If I were an enemy, I'd go for the obvious weakness and hammer at it repeatedly. But I can't even contemplate hitting you in the face, much less trying to gouge and claw. And I hardly know you; by all accounts, Captain Kirk is your best friend!"

"It is precisely because he is my best friend that he will do this. I would ask it of no one else. And you are correct; he will go for the eyes."

"Spock," Sulu interrupted, "I have an idea that might do what you want. If you're certain the Captain will attack the eye injury, we could count how many times he did that. We could require a certain number before you're allowed to win."

"And all moves up to then have to be defensive only."

"You get just 30 seconds to take him down afterwards."

"And no nerve pinches allowed."

Sulu's suggestion had given the audience permission to get involved. They took a vote and decided on requiring five attacks on the eyes. Sullivan interrupted reluctantly.

"Gentlemen, I regret that I must point out that the only way to be certain Captain Kirk is fighting to win is to allow him to actually injure Spock to see if he will. I recommend the second and fourth attacks be required to succeed, if only for a few seconds each. If he persists with a fifth attack, I'll believe he's really trying to win."

"Now just a minute-" objected McCoy.

"Doctor, please calm yourself. Mr. Sullivan is quite correct. It is eminently logical."

"Frak your logic, Spock! If you keep this up, your injury is never gonna heal!"

"I do not anticipate a repetition of this demonstration in the near future."

McCoy sputtered and fumed, staring at Spock. And Spock stared right back, or so it seemed to McCoy, in spite of the lack of eyes. The uncanny thing about it was that Spock knew when McCoy acquiesced, even though not another word was spoken. When McCoy backed down, Spock turned his attention to the general audience.

"Are there other requirements?" Silence. "If not, will Mr. Sullivan please inform Captain Kirk that we are ready."

Spock knew that Jim would not be happy with these requirements. But unlike McCoy, he would not protest. Indeed, Spock was counting on him to do what must be done. As to whether he himself could pull this off, there was little doubt that he could manage the first four. The fifth attack and final win were questionable. And if he faltered, would Jim hesitate? His intention would be not to, but could he override his instinctive response? There was only one way to find out.

As Kirk stood waiting in the corridor, he tried to prepare himself mentally. Short but brutal, Spock had said. That probably meant more ferocious than anything they had done the other night. To be really convincing, this must be every bit as aggressive as a real enemy attack from start to finish. He must in fact, think like an enemy. He wasn't sure he could. But of one thing he was sure: that he could only contemplate doing this because of his certainty that Spock could win.

When Kirk stepped back into the gym, he moved stealthily. The audience saw him and became very still. Kirk was sure that Spock knew he was there, but he didn't move. So Kirk launched his attack from behind. When he was about to land on Spock's shoulders, he suddenly found himself flat on his back. He launched a frontal attack - same result. This was spectacular, but insufficient. Too many people in the audience knew how it was done.

Kirk moved in close, delivered two hard punches to the midsection, which Spock ignored, and then went for the eyes. Spock held his wrists stationary for several seconds, then threw him backwards onto his back. Kirk picked himself up and did it again. This time however, Spock held his wrists briefly, but then let go, allowing Kirk's hands to land in his face. By the time Kirk registered that Spock had done it on purpose, he was again lying flat on his back.

Kirk was already moving again as he readjusted mentally to the possibility that there could be more of that coming. He hadn't really considered the idea of actually hurting Spock. They did a couple more fancy throws while Kirk thought about it. But nothing fundamental had changed. Spock was obviously willing that he should hurt him, and next time it probably wouldn't be nearly so obvious.

Decision made, Kirk launched a kick at Spock's face. Grabbing his ankle, Spock threw him over his shoulder. Kirk jumped on Spock's shoulders again, but this time Spock did not immediately throw him off. Kirk's fingers raked across Spock's face, gouging new wounds on top of the old. Spock fell to his knees, still not dislodging Kirk. In frustrated desperation, Kirk began still another attack on the eyes. Spock again grabbed his wrists, holding his hands inches from the bleeding green mess. Gratefully Kirk felt Spock throw him off. Before he could rise, Spock had landed on his chest, pinned his arms, and put a knee at his throat.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Kirk got a good look at the damage he'd caused. Repressing a shudder, he forced himself to make light of it.

"You look awful; you're bleeding all over me; and you've got maybe thirty seconds before Bones gets here."

"Thank you, Captain." Spock helped him up.

*For everything, Jim. Yes, I have been aware of your thoughts for several minutes. I did not want to distract you from the task at hand.*

*Besides, it could have been construed as cheating.*

McCoy's arrival interrupted the exchange.

"If you two are finished playing games, I want Spock in my Sickbay right now."

McCoy's face displayed some of the anger he felt.

Kirk stepped in front of Spock. "Bones, don't blame Spock! I'm the one that did it. Be angry at me."

"You've got green blood on your hands, I'll grant you, and you might have pushed Spock into doing this, but I doubt it. This whole thing has the fingerprint of Spock at his stubbornest. It wouldn't surprise me to find out that he told Sullivan what to say."

Spock stepped to the side, unwilling to hide behind Kirk. "I did not, but he was correct."

"Correct about what? What did Sullivan say?" Kirk asked.

"Sullivan is the reason you gouged Spock's face," McCoy replied.

"Captain, he merely pointed out that the only way to prove you were fighting to win was to allow you to injure me to see if you would."

"Of course." Kirk chuckled. "Too bad I didn't think of it ahead of time. I wouldn't have been so surprised."

"At any rate," McCoy grimaced, "if I'm going to be able to support a fit-to-command decision, I've got to have a complete physical. So, off you go, Spock. You've got between here and Sickbay to get your readings back to normal. The medscanner I'm wearing isn't functioning properly."

"Indeed. As you wish, Doctor."

Spock and McCoy left. Kirk knew they had won McCoy's approval, and he would get over his anger. The crowd had dispersed, leaving only Chuck and Sullivan.

"Gentlemen, is it all right if I get cleaned up before debriefing? I'm rather covered in green blood at the moment."

"Certainly, Captain. Where shall we await you?" Sullivan inquired.

"Depends how much privacy you want." For Kirk, it was a non-issue, but he wasn't assuming that to be the case with everybody.

"Privacy doesn't concern me except as it affects your answers. I'm more interested in immediacy. I want your report before you have a chance to forget, or be distracted with other concerns."

"Go next door and get us one of those alcove tables with a privacy shield. I'll be there in five minutes."

Kirk arrived within the prescribed time frame and took a seat next to Chuck. When it was apparent that Sullivan would lead the discussion, Kirk volunteered to let Chuck touch his face in order to get a clearer reading. Sullivan seemed surprised, so Kirk explained what they had done to experiment with Chuck's ability to read him. Sullivan acquiesced when Kirk assured him it would not be a distraction.

Sullivan took him step by step through the entire encounter. Kirk freely opened his soul and shared thoughts, reactions, and feelings. When he finished with opinions about both Spock and McCoy, Sullivan changed the flavor of the entire discussion. It was as if he had not heard or believed a word of what Kirk had said.

"You realize, Captain, that I can file charges against you for striking an officer, even if Spock refuses to do so?"

"Yes, you could." Kirk's voice was calm and unworried.

"I think that you engineered the whole thing in order to make a fool of Spock. And when the opportunity presented itself, you attacked with malice intended. You are, in fact, jealous of Spock, and are trying your best to destroy him while you still can."

"You are at liberty to think what you like."

Chuck laughed. "Sorry, sir."

"Do you have other questions?" Kirk inquired.

"Why is Chuck laughing?"

"I would guess he's laughing at me. But he may be amused at you as well."

Sullivan sent Chuck a glare even though neither of them could see. But the lapse was brief, and he refocused on Kirk. "And it doesn't bother you?"

"No, sir."

"Very well. No further questions. Thank you for your time."

Kirk departed, but Chuck and Sullivan remained seated.

"Well?" Sullivan asked.

"Sorry, sir, but it was too blatantly obvious. He didn't believe you. But even if he had, you won't catch him getting defensive. He's much too sure of himself for that. As long as you ask honestly, he'll tell you anything, but don't try to play games with him, 'cause it won't work."

"I'll try to keep that in mind. What about the rest of it?"

"Straight-from-the-heart truth. He's been that open with me right from the beginning. Whether he will choose to do that for you again, I cannot say. He has every right not to."

"Mm- And what do you think his true purpose is?"

Chuck was exasperated, but managed to reply calmly. "Exactly what he told you. They're trying to prove Spock is fit to command. Kirk plans to leave the ship at Outpost 67, per original orders."

"But that's ridiculous! 75% of the crew is blind; Spock's blind; Young is blind and unconscious. He has the perfect excuse to stay. I can't imagine why he wants to leave. No one could fault him for staying."

"What he wants and what he plans to do are often not the same thing. He's not looking for an excuse to stay, but a way to leave. However, of this I am quite certain: If he doesn't think it's safe for the _Enterprise_ and her crew, he won't leave."

xxxx

Kirk headed straight for Sickbay. McCoy was in his office.

"Come in, Jim. Sit down. Listen, I need to apologize for getting angry with you. Will you forgive me?"

"Sure. It's already forgotten. How's Spock?"

McCoy leaned back in the chair. "Now that's a loaded question. I've patched up his face more or less as good as it was before - which isn't saying much - though you did manage to avoid doing more than ripping the synth-skin off."

"That was the idea: maximum gore for minimum real damage."

"You did that on purpose?! How do you manage to think so fast? Or did Spock somehow tell you what to do?"

"I don't think he did. But as I think back on it, I'm sure he knew what I was going to do. But I don't know whether the fall to his knees was real, or done for effect."

"He undoubtedly wanted you to think it was faked, but my med-scanner says it was very real. His readings went wild for about thirty seconds."

"That the same scanner that was malfunctioning?" Kirk smirked.

McCoy grinned. "Yes, well, when I knew he was going to be all right, I turned it off. Couldn't get it to work after that. Anyway, by the time we got here, his readings were normal. So I've got my medical report that allows me to declare him fit to command, if that's what you want me to do."

"It is. He'll resign from Starfleet if you don't." Kirk gave him an earnest look. "And I'd feel better leaving command to Spock than to Scotty, assuming Young is still unable."

"Spock's still trying. That's where he is now in fact. His own pain's got to be triple what it was before, but he still thinks he can add Young's pain. And from what he said, I gather he expects Young to regain consciousness tonight."

xxxx

Spock had been at Young's bedside for about six hours when he noticed a change. Up to this point, he had encountered only pain each time he made contact with Young. But now the layer of pain was thin enough that he could gain a sense of the mind trapped beneath it. He felt Young's frustration and confusion, but he was reluctant to attempt verbal communication for fear of damaging the man's mind. So he retreated, taking one more portion of Young's pain with him.

A few minutes later, he was back, having taken the precaution of erecting shields that would protect Young from the pain he was carrying. It would be slower this way, but safer. This time however, as he began to retreat, Young spoke, loud and clear.

*Wait! Who are you, and what are you doing?*

*I am Spock, and I am taking your pain. But I can only take a small portion each time I come. Please be patient. I will return.*

And Spock retreated once again. When he returned, Young was waiting for him.

*What do you mean, you are taking my pain? And how can you be Spock? He is First Officer aboard the Enterprise. I sense that you are not me, but you are here inside of me. How can this be?*

*It would be safer for explanations to wait until the task is finished. Does it not damage you to talk with me through your pain?*

*I have no pain, nor am I damaged. I want to know what you are talking about, and I am tired of being 'safe'.*

*Very well, I will try to explain, but please tell me at once if you experience any physical distress. I am present in your mind by means of a Vulcan technique called the mind-meld. Three days ago you suffered a serious injury. You have been unconscious ever since. Your wives gave me permission to help you in this way. I regret the process is so slow. Do you have questions?*

*You have not said what the injury is, nor why you are doing this.*

*I am doing it because you have a need and I can help. Also, the Enterprise needs her captain on his feet and functional as soon as possible. I would have preferred telling you of the injury after removing your pain, because knowledge of the injury carries its own emotional pain. You have suffered a permanent loss to which you will have to adjust. If you permit, I can help you with that as well, since I have suffered the same loss.*

Spock paused, hoping Young would agree to wait. But he didn't, so Spock gave him the bad news.

*Three-quarters of the ship's company have lost the use of their eyes, due to our recent encounter with an unknown phenomenon. For most, the loss is temporary. For you and I, probably permanent. Flying glass destroyed your eyes. Due to your hybrid gene structure, it is unlikely that a match for replacement eyes can be found.*

*That may not be necessary. I must consult with Dr. McCoy.*

*If that consultation can wait until I finish removing your pain, you can talk with him directly without my assistance.*

Young sighed. *I confess what I want more than new eyes is your ability to deal with pain. I don't suppose you could teach me?*

*I have no idea whether you can learn, but I am more than willing to teach you. However it would be safer to wait-* Young began to protest. *But since you do not wish to wait, I must inform you of the risks involved. I am already carrying all the pain I can tolerate. If I could take the rest of your pain all at once, I would have done so. If you try to assimilate it and are only partly successful, I will be unable to take the burden from you. The result could be your death, and since we are mentally linked, mine as well.*

*I will not risk your death. So do as you think best. I will be patient. Come back when it is safe for you to do so.*

*As you wish, Captain.*

Spock made five more contacts, taking a small layer of Young's pain each time. Neither Spock nor Young spoke, but Young became more and more aware of what Spock was actually doing. At last he was finished. As he retreated for the last time, Young became aware of his surroundings.

"Spock, I owe you a debt I cannot pay." Young reached for Spock's hand, then changed his mind and let it drop on the bed.

"You owe me nothing. The decision was mine. However, I must rest now. If duty permits, I will begin teaching you in four hours. You should be pain-free until then."

"Are either of my wives here?"

"Yes, husband, we are both here." They had awakened at the sound of voices.

"Gisa, Nona, attend me." They stood, one on each side of the bed, and placed their hands in his. "Do you understand what Spock has done for me?"

"Yes, husband, we know," Nona replied for both.

"You will accord him privileged guest status, not revokable by any future action."

Gisa gasped with surprise. Nona replied quietly.

"Yes, husband, it will be as you have said. However, there is a past action I am required to bring to your attention. I have violated the marriage covenant by touching Spock, and he has touched me."

Dead silence greeted this announcement. After a moment, Young spoke, reluctantly.

"Spock, do you understand what she has accused you of?"

"No sir, I was unaware there was an accusation implied in what she said. I do know of the incident to which she is referring, and I do not understand why she has chosen to leave certain facts unsaid. Nor do I wish to intrude on a private matter. So if you will excuse me-"

"This matter concerns you, Spock. She is accusing you of adultery."

Spock gave no indication that he had heard the accusation. "Captain, if I do not leave now, I will collapse before reaching my quarters. With your permission, I will discuss this with you later."

"Forgive me, Spock. Go, by all means. We'll sort this out when you are rested." Spock departed. "Gisa, please get Dr. McCoy for me." Gisa departed. "Now, Nona, tell me what this is all about." He had not released her hands, so she stood before him, silent. "Nona, please, this distresses me greatly. I know you've said all that is required, but I want to know why." Still she said nothing. "Do you love this man, Spock, then?" She shuddered involuntarily, but remained silent. "I will _not_ make a decision without more information!"

McCoy and Gisa walked in on the heels of this outburst.

"I knew we'd hear from that Andorian temper sooner or later. Good morning, Captain. I'm glad to see you're finally awake."

"Good morning, Doctor. My apologies for the outburst. A purely personal matter. Thank you for coming on such short notice." He still had not released Nona.

"If I'm going to examine you, I'll have to ask you to let go of Nona. Are you afraid she's going to run away? If so, let me assure you she's been practically glued to this bed ever since you were brought in here."

"I'm not surprised, Doctor. However this involves an unsettled matter between us with very definite cultural rules. Nona, hop across the bed so I can hold you with the other hand. That should give Dr. McCoy the room he needs." She did. "Now, Doctor, about the eyes-"

Young shared with McCoy what he knew about his own medical history. The upshot of it was that with the data tapes in Young's quarters, if McCoy could get an adequate tissue sample from what was left of Young's eyes, new eyes could be grown in approximately six weeks, after which another surgery would be required to install the new eyes.

"Does it matter how long after the injury I obtain the tissue sample?" McCoy asked.

"I don't remember that it said, Doctor, but there are a few things requiring my attention, so not now, if you please."

"Spoken like a typical captain. I don't suppose a few hours will make much difference at this point, and I have to study those tapes anyway. So you can have at least four hours, maybe eight."

"Thank you, Doctor. Gisa please get my medical tapes for Dr. McCoy." She departed.

"Do you want me to rebandage this, or leave it open to the air?"

"Doesn't matter to me, Doctor. You're the one who has to look at it. Spock is very thorough. Nothing you've done produces any pain. How does it look?"

"A lot better than Spock's does, but that doesn't surprise me. Now you should rest, but I suppose you want reports from everybody instead. Kirk always starts running the ship as soon as he's conscious, even if he's flat on his back and can't move. Any time either he or Spock's in here, they turn my Sickbay into a briefing room. They'd bring the Bridge equipment down here if I let 'em."

Young laughed. "Who's running the ship now? Spock?"

"No, Kirk is. Spock made him take command, and Sullivan didn't argue."

"Well, then I'll start with Sullivan. What time is it?"

"Just after 0600."

"He'll be up then. And I'll see Kirk after that, if he has time. Spock said he'd return when he could. Can you tolerate that many visitors?" Young asked wryly.

"Of course, Captain. Quite reasonable of you." McCoy sighed as he left.

xxxx

Spock reached his quarters and collapsed on the floor.

"Computer, message to Captain Kirk, D-4."

"_Working; please dictate message._"

"Young conscious 0542. Request permission to be relieved of Bridge duty to devote attention to Young's recovery. Spock. End message. Please send."

"_Acknowledged._"

Three minutes later Kirk was at Spock's door. He let himself in, picked Spock up off the floor, and carried him to the bed.

"Spock, can you hear me?"

"Yes, Jim." Spock's voice was little more than a whisper.

"Give me some of it, please, Spock. Let me help carry it, at least for a little while. I don't have to be anywhere for an hour. Load me up with as much as I can tolerate."

And he picked up Spock's hand and placed his fingers in the proper positions on his own face. Spock was in such extremity that he didn't even argue; he just dumped.

When Kirk felt the first wave of pain, he breathed a grateful *thank you.* He'd been afraid Spock would refuse. Every few seconds, Spock stopped sending. Kirk just said *more.* Even after he started having to fight the loss of consciousness, he still said *more.* He figured as long as he could still formulate the word, he could tolerate just a little bit more. Spock knew better. Even so, he cut it very, very close.

When Spock withdrew, Kirk slid carefully onto his back on the floor next to Spock's bed. _Next time I'll start here_, he thought, then realized he intended there would be several next times. That is, if he could persuade Spock. He relaxed as best he could and began to pray for Spock, surprised that coherent thought was possible. Thirty minutes later, he spoke.

"Spock, when you withdrew, I was just barely conscious, right?"

"That is correct."

"Have you since then taken the pain back when I wasn't paying attention?"

"No, I have not." A note of inquiry crept into Spock's voice.

"Then I think we have just experienced another miracle. The pain is gone- completely. It left so gradually, I was unaware of it leaving. But it's definitely gone. Praise God! Thank you, Lord!"

They both sat up.

"In that case, I will not need to be relieved of Bridge duty until 1000. I can tolerate this level of pain without further rest."

"I'd like to do this again tonight, whether or not we get another miracle."

"It is unnecessary."

"But I want to," Kirk pressed.

"Very well. If circumstances permit."


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Sullivan entered Young's room shortly after Gisa's return. Nona was still held in Young's other hand, and was maintaining silence, in spite of Young's repeated attempts to get her to talk.

"Good morning, Captain. Sullivan here. Glad to hear you're awake. I must tell you that I too am blind. Though I have the temporary version; at least, they say it's temporary. You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, sir. Gisa, do you and Nona have your eyesight?"

"Yes, husband. We are fortunate."

"Is there anyone within the sound of my voice besides you, Nona, and Sullivan?"

"No, unless there is a listening device in this room."

"We'll wait while you check."

Gisa pulled an electronic device from somewhere on her person and used it to scan the room for bugs.

"Negative, husband," she reported.

"Gisa, please take Nona and leave the room. Return her to me as soon as Sullivan has left."

They departed with Nona's hands now in Gisa's.

"Code 725 blue," Young spoke without further delay.

"624 green," Sullivan replied.

"The situation has changed considerably from what was expected. I have not yet received reports, nor spoken to anyone other than Spock and McCoy. Those conversations primarily concerned my condition, though McCoy did tell me that Kirk is in command. Do you have instructions?"

"Yes. Cooperate with what Kirk and Spock are trying to do. I won't tell you what that is, because your response must be genuine. But I want to know if they can succeed, and to what lengths they will go to achieve that success. When in doubt, be yourself. You were chosen for this job because of who you are, not for any ability to act other than who you are. Any questions?"

"What about the false service record?" Young asked.

"All seven of them heard it - I was there. Initial response was dismay, but there's been no indication they've shared it with any other crewmen, nor does their behavior show that they believe the record."

"What do you make of what Spock just did for me, or do you even know?"

"Yes, I do. It is part of what they plan," Sullivan admitted.

"I had to give him privileged guest status. That means, if he finds out who and what I am, I will have to tell him the truth."

"It was expected that he would eventually discover the truth. By then, however, we will have what we need."

xxxx

Shortly after Sullivan left, Kirk arrived without having been called. Nona was still maintaining stubborn silence.

"I heard you were awake. Good morning, Captain. Kirk here. I imagine you'd like a report on the condition of your ship and crew."

"Yes, I would. Sit down, Captain. There must be a chair in here somewhere." Kirk sat. "I heard you'd taken command."

"Yes, but that's temporary. Only for the duration of the present crisis."

Kirk proceeded to give a concise summary of recent events, his own actions, present condition of ship and crew, and expectations for their arrival at Outpost 67.

"It is my intention to leave the ship as originally planned. It is Spock's intention that you be fit to command by the time I leave. That means we have just four days to teach you how to function blind. Dr. McCoy has indicated his willingness to declare Spock fit. I can leave Spock in command. I'd rather return command to you. Are you willing to do what it takes to be ready for it in four days flat?"

Young sat bolt upright in shock. "Do I understand this correctly? You are again in command of this ship, through circumstances no one could fault you for. You propose to voluntarily give up that command to a blind person? I've heard of the blind leading the blind, but no one who thought it was a good idea! That's absolutely crazy! On top of that, you don't even want to give it to Spock, although you've twisted McCoy's arm and got him to declare Spock fit. You want to give it to me instead. Why?" It was a demand, not a polite inquiry.

The answer was not simple. "The correct answer is that I'm following orders. The ship is yours, and it is my duty to do what I can to enable you to take command. And while that's true, the reality is more complex than that. The question of Christianity aboard this ship and even throughout Starfleet is bigger than me. I want the panel to see what happens to the Christian movement on this ship when I'm not here. They think it will collapse. I don't. Until I'm off this ship, we won't know who's right.

"Starfleet chose to give you command, rather than Spock. I don't know why, and it doesn't matter. We want to give them exactly what they asked for, and then show them they're wrong. This crisis with the blindness wasn't part of the plan. It couldn't have been. But neither does it make the plan impossible to achieve. Just difficult.

"Spock can, in fact, function without eyes. He's been doing it for the past three days. And no, I didn't twist McCoy's arm. We just gave him a thoroughly convincing demonstration. You will have to pass an equally thorough test. McCoy's not going to give it to you if you haven't worked for it. We've been training almost everybody on the ship, but you will have to be better at it than they are. The question is, are you willing to learn, and how much are you willing to work at it?"

Young's reply came without any hesitation. "Whatever it takes."

"Spock's in charge of your education. I'll help when I can. He's an excellent teacher, very thorough. But I warn you. He doesn't coddle anybody, least of all, himself. He'll be here in just over an hour. Any questions?"

"Did he tell you I asked him to teach me to deal with pain?"

"No, he didn't. But it's a great idea. If anybody can do it, he can."

"Spock doesn't know this yet, but Dr. McCoy needs to perform another surgery on me later today. I'm not sure how that affects your four-day timetable, but I doubt if you'll convince McCoy to put it off for four days."

"I'll talk to him, but we'll do what we have to, and work with the time we've got. I just hope it won't take you three days to recover from this."

"I wouldn't have recovered at all had it not been for Spock. I owe him my life."

Kirk understood very well. "So do I, many times over."

"But you've saved his life too."

"We stopped keeping score a long time ago. I know how you feel - that it's a debt you can't possibly pay. And you're right, you can't. He doesn't want you to try. Instead, be his friend." If he could impart this concept to Young, then maybe the situation wasn't hopeless. "If you let him, he'll show you who he is. If you treat that as the precious knowledge that it is, he'll ask for nothing else."

"Except to show him myself?"

"He won't ask; he'll wait for you to freely give."

xxxx

Spock returned to his quarters after spending two hours on the Bridge attending to administrative details. He sat down at his desk and addressed the computer.

"Library search: Morenan and Andorian cultures: Specific meaning attached to term: Privileged Guest Status. Subpoint to previous term: Not revokable by any future action. Second search, same cultures: Specific meaning attached to term: Touch. Especially, what is touch that constitutes adultery?"

"_Working."_

Spock sat back in the chair and waited. Hopefully, he thought, there would soon be time to work on a data retrieval system that wasn't quite as slow as spoken Standard. Perhaps a combination of aural and tactile input.

_"Terms have no special significance in Andorian culture. In Morenan culture, privileged guest status is awarded to foreigners to whom a non-monetary debt is owed. Typically personal rather than political in nature. This status entitles recipient to virtually anything he may ask for while in the host's home, including personal belongings, money, land, and/or sexual favors from the host's wife. To make status irrevocable by any future action is extremely rare, and has been done only when the debt owed is the saving of a life."_

"Can status be revoked by past action?"

_"Only if such action is unknown to host at time of award, but he is thereafter made aware of it. If he does not immediately revoke the status, then it stands. Is more detail required before going on to second search?"_

"No."

_"Second search: Morenans have many nuances for the word 'touch'. That which constitutes adultery would be sensual touch between a male and a female who is the wife of another, without that other's permission. Any touch between male and female is presumed to be sensual, unless otherwise stated or proved. There are many rules about who may touch whom in various circumstances. Do you wish an enumeration?"_

"Not at this time. Log for future study: File D6-428."

_"Acknowledged."_

After a brief period of prayer and meditation, Spock returned to Young's bedside. Gisa and Nona were both there; he could smell them.

"Captain, Spock here. I am now able to teach you, as requested."

"According to Kirk, you're going to teach me how to function with blindness too."

"That is my goal, yes."

"I have a couple of complications. The result of my consultation with Dr. McCoy is that he needs to obtain tissue samples from the remains of my eyes. If successful, he will be able to grow me a new set of eyes."

"Did he say how long the surgery would take?" Spock asked.

"No, but my biggest concern is the recovery time. According to Kirk, we don't have time for me to be unconscious for another three days. Is there any chance you could teach me to deal with pain before the surgery?"

"I can teach you, yes. Whether you can acquire sufficient skill in a few hours to be able to handle the surgery, I do not know. If not, I can again take your pain."

"How can you? You're already full."

"It is less than before. There is room for more."

"Less? How?"

"At his request, I gave some of it to Captain Kirk. The Lord took it from him, so now none of us has it."

Young cocked his head in puzzlement. "The Lord, as in Jesus Christ? You gave it to Kirk, and Kirk gave it to Jesus? Right." Disbelief was obvious. "He was here an hour ago, and said nothing about this."

"He would have seen no need to mention it. However, it is not precisely true that he gave the pain to Jesus. The Lord took it, but we were not expecting such a miracle."

"Would you mind telling me exactly what did occur?" Young struggled to keep an open mind.

So Spock shared the details of what had happened earlier that morning in his quarters.

"He wishes to do it again tonight. If you are interested, we could do it here as easily as in my quarters. I have no idea whether the miracle will be repeated."

"Yes, I'm definitely interested." This clearly warranted further investigation.

Spock glanced at the wives. "You mentioned a second complication."

"Yes. It concerns the marital problem we began to discuss earlier. I must make a decision before I can devote my attention to your teaching. Our culture requires it, and I cannot afford the distraction of having this unsettled."

"Do you have need of my assistance, or do you merely require more time?"

"I would value your assistance, though I cannot require it."

"I am at your service. How can I help you?" Spock readily offered.

"Nona refuses to say more than she said when you were here. That is insufficient to make a decision, but she remains silent no matter what I say."

"What decision are you referring to?"

"Whether to reject her as wife. A rejected wife has no place in Morenan society. I asked her if she was in love with you, and she wouldn't even answer that. I'm hoping you will tell me what occurred between you. Do you want her as wife?"

"I am no expert in matters of the heart, and I'm not necessarily opposed to telling you what occurred. But perhaps the reason for her silence is more important than the facts of what happened. If you obtain no data, what will your decision be?"

"I would have to reject her. Honor demands it. I can hardly bear to consider it, but I would let her go if she would be happy with you."

Spock repressed a shudder at the idea and focused on Young's need. "But not knowing that, you would reject her because honor demands it? Is your honor more important to you than your love for her?"

"Ah, then you think this is a ploy to get me to declare my love for her?"

"I do not think it is that simple. But if you do love her enough to keep her in spite of her declared unfaithfulness, you may eventually find out why she chose to mislead you in this."

"Then she is misleading me?"

"It is a logical conclusion. Either we committed adultery, or we did not. If we did not, then she is misleading you into thinking that we did. If we did, then what reasons exist for volunteering this information? One possibility is that she is in love with me, and wishes to be free to pursue such a relationship. If so, however, why would she refuse to tell you her wishes? Another possibility, given her timing, is that she wishes to discredit me in your eyes. However, if that is the case, one wonders why she did not accuse me of rape instead of adultery.

"Since neither of these possibilities seems to fit the facts, it is probable that we did not commit adultery, and she is misleading you. However, it remains an assumption. Would your assessment of her character lead you to conclude her innocent or guilty?"

Young's response was prompt. "Oh, innocent, definitely. But tell me, in all this logical argument, why are you refusing to defend yourself?"

"You do not know me well enough to trust my word, and if you did, you would know the answer without needing to ask the question. Do you trust Gisa's word? What has she said about what occurred?"

"I haven't asked her. You mean, she witnessed it? Gisa?"

"Yes, husband. At Nona's request, I witnessed an encounter between her and Spock. Of course, I cannot say what might have occurred when I was not here. I will tell you what I know if I must. But like Spock, I know there is a reason for Nona's silence. I love her enough to respect that even though she has not told me anything."

Young regarded them in silence for a moment. When he spoke, it was to Nona, and it was a quiet tone of voice.

"You have created a conspiracy of silence. Neither of them want to tell me what happened because they think you don't want them to. Are they right?"

Nona didn't answer.

"I should be very angry with you, and I'm not sure why I'm not."

In fact, he had been angry, but his temper was spent, and he was still faced with a decision he did not want to make.

"I know I should reject you; you have done your best to give me no other choice. I do not understand why you want this. One of my responsibilities as your husband is to care for you in the best way I know how. It is my opinion that this would not be a good thing for you. But the fact is, I simply cannot bear to give you up, so if you are willing to stay, I will keep you, in spite of this business with Spock, which I very much doubt is as you have presented it. Please, Nona, will you stay?"

Nona was in tears. "Why?"

"I love you, Nona!"

"But you love Gisa."

"Yes, but that does not mean I don't love you." Young brought Nona's fingers to his lips.

She still wasn't convinced. "But you chose Gisa."

Young sat up and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Nona, listen to me. You are a perfect choice as my first wife. No one can take your place in my heart. Do not ever think that I question the wisdom of that choice. I chose Gisa as second wife to complement us both, and she does that very well. Together, we are a three-fold cord that cannot be broken. But if you leave the team, we will not function well without you, partly because we would grieve the loss, but partly because we aren't whole without you. What have I done to make you think I don't love you, or that I love Gisa more?"

"Nothing!" She was openly sobbing now. "Oh, husband, I have done you a great wrong! I have misjudged you entirely! I thought it would be best for you to be rid of me. Then you would not have to pretend to love me just because I was chosen for you. I knew you would not abandon me simply because you prefer Gisa. Honor demands that you care for me. So when the encounter with Spock presented an opportunity, I decided to give you the perfect reason to get rid of me."

"But Nona, what would have happened to you?"

She shook her head helplessly. "That did not concern me. All that matters to me is your happiness."

"I will be happiest if you stay. Do you believe that?"

"Yes, husband, I believe you. And I will stay. I am very sorry for the wrong I have done you. What punishment do you require?"

"You will spend the remainder of this day in our quarters, starting with eight hours uninterrupted sleep. After that, you will submit to Gisa's attention as you prepare yourself to minister to my needs tonight. That is all." He paused. "However, you have wronged Spock as well."

Nona turned to face Spock. "Husband is right. I have wronged you. I deemed it a regrettable necessity. And in light of what I had already done to you without objection, this seemed a small thing. Nonetheless, I am sorry. What punishment do you require?"

"I value a good name far more highly than avoidance of discomfort. However, I require no punishment. I forgive the debt. You owe me nothing." Any other response was unthinkable in Spock's mind.

"Thank you. You are very gracious." Nona departed.

"Gisa," Young continued, "are you all right?"

"Yes, husband. But I didn't know of this. I knew she was troubled, but she never talked about it. Do you want me to tell you of the encounter between Nona and Spock?"

"I am curious. Obviously, something occurred. But I do not need to know what."

"I do not think Nona would object now, and she did ask me to witness it. When Spock first came in here, he explained what he wished to do, and asked permission to proceed. When he discovered the enormity of the task, he asked permission to stay all night. Nona did not feel we could give permission without first-hand knowledge of exactly what he was doing, along with proof that his motivation was for your good.

"With his permission, she probed his emotions using physical touch and pheromones. He just stood there, apparently completely unaffected. But he wasn't shielding against her either. She said he was hiding nothing, except the pain he carries. He wanted to protect her from it, but she wouldn't let him. When he refused to take down the shield, she purposely increased his pain beyond his ability to control by pressing her thumbs into his eye sockets. He just stood there and let her do it, even though he knew exactly what she was going to do." Gisa glanced at Spock to see if he would deny it.

He said nothing, so she finished her report. "She fell to the floor unconscious. I helped him find her face, so he could take back the pain she had received. That is the only time he touched her. At no time was his behavior at all sensual. He appears to have no need to protect or defend himself; rather he understands and accepts Nona without any need for words. I find him a fascinating man, and would welcome the opportunity for further study."

"Perhaps it can be arranged. But now, Spock and I have work to do. Will you take care of Nona for me, and I'll see you tonight." Young squeezed her hand and released her.

"Yes, husband, of course." She departed.

"Spock, I get the impression you knew all along the reason for Nona's silence."

"Yes, I did. I am a touch telepath. When she touched me, I learned of her, just as she learned of me. I am grateful that you did not require Gisa to tell what she knew. Nona's need could not have been met if you had known the truth."

"And her need was more important than yours?"

Spock asked curiously, "What need of mine are you referring to?"

"Your need of a good name."

"I value it highly, but I do not need to defend it. If I am doing the Lord's work, He will take care of my reputation."

"I agree with Gisa's assessment. You are a fascinating man. But enough of that for now. I am ready for you to teach me. What do you want me to do?"


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Spock began with a review of the purpose of pain and how the nervous system works. He moved from there to a discussion of the Vulcan techniques of pain control. He concluded with several issues specific to Young's situation. They took a meal break, after which Spock consulted with McCoy before returning to Young's room.

"Spock here, Captain. I trust you are refreshed."

"Yes, thank you," Young replied.

"I have spoken with Dr. McCoy. He wishes to perform the surgery as soon as possible. I have persuaded him to delay another two hours, so that you may practice what we discussed this morning. He assured me the surgery is minor, will take only a few minutes, and could be done with a local anesthetic. I presume you wish to attempt it without any medication. That being the case, we need to practice. Pain control is a skill, not merely head knowledge."

Spock was patient but persistent, gradually feeding him larger amounts of pain by mind-meld. Mostly Young was determined and cooperative. Fear did not seem to be an issue. However, at one point, he lost his focus and was immediately overwhelmed. He began to retreat into unconsciousness, but Spock wouldn't let him go.

*Stop! You must stay! When you feel overwhelmed, you must fight the instinct to retreat. You can win this battle, but you must decide that you want to. Accept the pain, carry the burden, own the responsibility. You can do this. How badly do you want to?*

Young teetered on the edge of unconsciousness for a long moment before exerting his will to fight back. Spock was pleased. Young's will was not as strong as Kirk's but nowhere near as weak as he had expected. When the two hours were almost up, Spock took back all the pain he had given Young. He then explained the types of pain, and how the surgery would be different than what he had just dealt with.

When they told McCoy that Young wanted the surgery without any anesthetic, he insisted on putting Young's head in a vise.

"I know Spock can hold still no matter what I have to do. I don't know that you can. I should insist on arm, chest, and leg restraints, too."

"Do whatever you think best, Doctor."

So McCoy strapped him down thoroughly. Then he turned to Spock. "I suppose you want to- stay." He'd almost said 'watch' before catching himself.

Spock ignored the slip. "More than that, Doctor. I would like to be in mental contact with the Captain throughout the procedure."

"Just how do you propose to manage that without getting in my way?"

Spock positioned himself at Young's head, placing the fingertips of each hand around the edge of Young's face.

"We are ready, Doctor."

When McCoy made the first incision, he watched Young carefully. Not a twitch, nor a gasp. He was as rock-steady as Spock would have been. Of course, it was possible that Spock was doing it in Young, but he didn't think so. Spock was just that good a teacher.

When he had several tissue samples, McCoy left to run tests to make sure of his samples before reclosing the wound.

Spock kept up a running commentary of encouragement, which would have surprised McCoy had he heard it. Gentle exhortation was not one of Spock's fortes.

*You are doing well. I am pleased. The doctor will be gone for an indefinite period of time, possibly only a few minutes, possibly much longer. During this time, the pain will not be as intense as what you have just experienced, but it will gradually increase - so gradually that it may take you by surprise. Continue the pain control techniques even if you think you don't need them.*

McCoy returned about twenty minutes later.

"Sorry that took so long, but I wanted to be sure."

"It is not a problem, Doctor."

The voice was Young's, but the content was Spock's. McCoy wasn't sure he wanted two Spocks running around the ship.

"Right. Anyway, the samples look good. No promises mind you, but you just might have new eyes in about six weeks." He was closing the wound as he talked. "Now if you were Spock, the next question would be how soon will I let you out of here, so I'll anticipate the question. Even a minor surgery like this ought to have 24 hours bedrest, since you're not fully recovered from the previous injury. But I'll shorten it to tomorrow morning at 0700. How's that sound?"

"Eminently reasonable, except for one thing: I promised my wives I would spend the night in our quarters. They do not get much sleep in Sickbay, and now that I'm conscious, I too will rest better in my quarters."

"I'll let you out of here in four hours then. But there are several conditions: 1) I want you back here at 0700 tomorrow, so I can check for infection; 2) You're being released to rest in your quarters - that means rest. You are in no way cleared for active duty; and 3) Spock and/or Kirk may not, I repeat _not_, take you down to the gym for fun and games, training sessions, or whatever they may call it. Not 'til I clear it. Is that understood?"

"Perfectly, Doctor. When do you anticipate clearing me for such activity?" Young asked, still sounding like Spock.

"That depends on how things look in the morning. Meanwhile, four hours rest."

McCoy closed up his instruments and prepared to depart.

"By the way, I'm very impressed. Spock's a good teacher, but you have to be an exceptional student. Next time, no restraints." McCoy departed.

Spock began gathering Young's pain to himself.

*Spock! What are you doing?! Why?*

*You will rest better without it. My plans for your training require that Dr. McCoy clear you for it tomorrow morning. To that end, rest is of primary importance. Also, long-term pain management is a more advanced skill than you have at this time.*

Spock withdrew, taking Young's pain with him.

"With your permission, I will resume your training at 2100 in your quarters. The doctor did not say that we could not have training sessions, merely that we could not take you to the gym. Tell your wives I anticipate this session will last between two and three hours."

"Do you wish them to be elsewhere during the session?"

"No. I want them to be present. Part of the training is for them."

Spock left Sickbay and went directly to the Bridge. They were due to arrive at Outpost 67 within the hour. Kirk was on the Bridge. Spock sensed his scrutiny and nodded fractionally. Kirk turned away, satisfied, and a little awed that Spock could still communicate with him that way even though he couldn't see.

"Sulu, what's our ETA at 67?"

"42 minutes, Captain."

"Thank you. Spock, assemble a landing party. Get McCoy and Scotty if you can. I'll stay here this time. Don't want to muddy the waters about who's in charge over there. Keep me posted on what you find."

"Acknowledged, Captain."

Outpost 67 was in worse shape than 72. No one had eyesight, and the three critically injured were barely alive. McCoy wouldn't predict their chances. Scotty estimated four days to effect repairs. For once, Kirk didn't press him to shorten the time. Spock and Young were going to need all the time they could get.

Over dinner, Kirk asked Spock how it was going.

"We have spent the first session dealing with pain management, at his request. I am somewhat surprised at the speed with which he learns. The more time I spend with him, the less inclined I am to believe that service record." Due to his mental contact, Spock knew a great deal more than he could reveal.

Kirk nodded, satisfied that Spock had it under control.

"Our next session is scheduled for 2100 in his quarters. If you are available, I would welcome your assistance."

"Of course. I'll be there." Having no need to probe for information on Young, Kirk voiced a more urgent concern. "Spock, what's the absolute minimum number of people required to run the outpost?"

"Difficult to be precise because of the variables involved. They are designed for ten: three shifts of three, plus a commanding officer. Most operate with numbers varying from seven to nine. With only seven, the crew suffers from long-term fatigue. For short periods of time the outpost could be manned by fewer people."

"How many fewer, and for how long?"

"There are many unknown variables, such as the skill level of personnel, the amount of rest required by each, and the motivation. I will inquire of Mr. Scott as to which functions could be automated or combined so as to require fewer personnel."

"Thank you. I'd like to get it down to one. I realize that's probably not possible, but the fewer the better. If I can concoct some reason to leave them on the _Enterprise_, at least they'll be alive."

Neither voiced the reminder that Kirk would not be.

xxxx

Spock arrived at Young's quarters precisely at 2100. Kirk joined him a moment later. Gisa let them in.

"I am sorry, gentlemen. Captain Young is not here. Spock, as a privileged guest, you are welcome here at any time, and anyone with you is equally welcome. Please come in. How may I serve you?"

They entered and she gestured them to chairs.

"Would you like refreshment?"

"Not at this time, thank you. Captain Young will be arriving shortly. Have you communicated with him at all since you left Sickbay this morning?"

Gisa shook her head. "No, I haven't. I've been meaning to ask someone to show me the operation of several items in these quarters, including the intercom."

"I will see to it tomorrow. We have a training session scheduled which will last approximately two hours. After that, you'll have the night to yourselves. He is due back at Sickbay at 0700. This training session will be held here in his quarters, and will involve you and Nona as well. Please ask her to join us."

Gisa left and returned in moments, followed shortly thereafter by Nona.

"The training session will begin as soon as Captain Young arrives. Please obey my instructions, even if they violate your cultural traditions. The purpose of the training is to equip Captain Young to function without eyes. While we wait, you are at liberty to ask me any question you wish."

"Is high tolerance of pain seen by your culture as a great virtue? If so, why?"

"In Captain Kirk's culture, many see it as a measure of courage and inner strength. In my culture, it is merely taken for granted. That which everyone can do is not seen as a virtue. As between us, it is largely taken for granted. Captain Kirk knows and values what I can do, without feeling the need to envy or challenge it. I am intimately acquainted with the amount of pain he can tolerate. He makes no objection to my use of that knowledge." Spock was aware of Kirk's grin without having to see it.

"Husband wishes to obtain this skill so he will be viewed as a man of courage?"

"Perhaps. However, I suspect he finds it very inconvenient to the fulfilling of his responsibilities to be hampered by periods of unconsciousness. In any event, he is an excellent student. He learns quickly and is highly motivated.

"I hear him in the corridor. Ladies, when he enters, do not move from your present location until I tell you to."

In the next moment, Young stepped into the room, and the door closed behind him. No one spoke.

"This room doesn't feel empty. Nona, Gisa, are you here? Are you all right?"

"Yes husband. Spock told us not to move."

"Captain, your training session has begun. While it is still fresh in your mind, please recount for me your experience in getting here. After that, we will deal with the contents of this room. Meanwhile, please remain by the door."

Young gave a blow-by-blow description, including three mid-corridor collisions, and twice being so lost he had to ask for directions.

"In short, I'm afraid I flunked miserably. I've never felt so helpless in my life."

"On the contrary, Captain, you do not know what was being tested. I did not expect you to be able to get here without assistance. Did you consider an escort?"

"That seemed like cheating. However, I'm curious about a couple of comments. One of the gentlemen I ran into said I needed more time on the hangar deck. Another referred to Kirk's Olympics. Both seemed to think the references constituted a joke. Can you explain?"

"Due to the widespread blindness, training sessions have been conducted for all personnel, some of which have been on the hangar deck. Captain Kirk has often been the butt of jokes concerning activities the crew do not find particularly pleasant."

"And Kirk does not object?" Young sounded as if _he_ did.

"Why should he? The humor is not malicious, nor does it hamper their performance. Rather in many instances, it seems to increase efficiency."

Throughout this conversation, Kirk said nothing, merely smiling when Gisa looked at him in puzzlement. Spock continued.

"Now about this room, please describe every piece of furniture and its position relative to where you are standing."

Young named all but one piece of furniture, but was not very accurate about their locations.

"Which chair am I sitting in?"

Young got it right on the first try.

"Which of your wives spoke to you when you entered?"

"That was Gisa."

"Where is she sitting?"

Young thought for a moment. "I don't remember," he admitted.

Spock took him step-by-step through the process of identifying and locating someone by sound and smell. Young got so he could find each wife after only one spoken word, but could not do it by smell alone, as Spock could. Still nothing was said about Kirk's presence. Finally Spock declared a break and the ladies swarmed over Young, brought him to the couch, and began administering a massage. Suddenly Young sat up.

"There's someone else in this room."

"What brings you to that conclusion?"

"I don't know, but am I right?"

Spock wouldn't tell him. Instead he forced him to analyze the data: sounds, smells, behavior of others in the room. Young wasn't very sure, but decided he must have heard something, or thought he did.

"If there is such a person, what is his or her location?"

Young correctly placed Kirk in the only vacant chair in the room.

"Again, if such a person exists, is he or she friend or foe? Male or female?"

"Based on your behavior, I'd say friend. At least, definitely not enemy. Based on my wives' behavior, I'd say male rather than female." Young chuckled briefly.

"Gisa, Nona, please remain where you are. Captain, please explore by touch to establish the validity of your conclusions."

Young did not object, but got down on his hands and knees, and crawled towards Kirk. The first thing he encountered was a knee. He followed the leg down to the foot, then sat back on his heels.

"I have established that yes, this person exists, is sitting in this chair, and from the size of the foot, is probably male. Also since he is not now kicking me in the face, probably friend."

"Very good. Please stand, explore the face, and tell me his identity."

Young looked up at Kirk. "No objections?"

Kirk remained silent. So Young stood up and put his fingers on Kirk's face. Kirk grinned at Gisa, who was watching wide-eyed.

"You think this is funny?"

Kirk didn't answer. After thoroughly exploring Kirk's face, Young gave up.

"I'm sorry, Spock, I cannot tell who this person is using this means."

"Very well. Please listen carefully while he speaks one word."

"Enterprise," was Kirk's chosen word.

"I am not being a very good student, I fear. I cannot clearly identify this person by the sound of his voice either."

Kirk glanced at Spock, wondering if he knew what Young was carefully not saying. Spock steepled his fingers, and cocked his head in Kirk's direction- the substitute eyebrow-raising gesture. _He knows_, Kirk thought. They both just waited for Young to confess.

"Gisa, you are observant. What did I just miss?" Young asked.

"The - um - person you are trying to identify just looked at Spock, who put his fingers together and moved his head slightly. They are now both looking at you."

Young processed that in silence before reaching a conclusion that startled him. "Incredible! I read the reports, but I didn't believe them. And you can't even see him! Spock, how did you know he was looking at you?"

"I will answer your question if you first tell me how you know his identity."

"I'm sorry. I deduced it. According to reports, there are very few people you would ask to sit silent and motionless for over an hour, and then submit to an invasion of their person without comment or objection. I knew when you told me to touch his face, and I confirmed it by finding the stripes on his uniform. But I could not have identified him by either of the methods you proposed. So if you have someone else dressed in a Captain's uniform, then I am fooled."

"Your conclusion is correct, although your assumption is faulty. There are quite a number of people aboard this ship I would trust to do this task, though perhaps not without advance instruction. To answer your question, I sense when someone's attention is focused on me. The impression is stronger with Captain Kirk than many others, due to our frequent mind-melds."

"Thank you. You have raised other questions, but I will restrain my curiosity."

"There are no unacceptable questions in a teacher-student relationship."

"Well then, I want to know how you sense someone's attention, whether you could teach it to me, and also how Captain Kirk could do what you want without instruction."

Spock looked at Kirk, who replied.

"He did give me instructions. It just wasn't in a form you would recognize. There are many ways to communicate besides the spoken word. For example, just now, Spock asked me to answer your question simply by looking at me. Earlier, he told me to be silent by not including me in the conversation."

"And you automatically do whatever he says without objection?"

"Not automatically, no. But in any situation where Spock is giving instructions, they're usually the right ones. In this situation, I trust his judgment completely." Kirk smiled broadly.

"I do too, in spite of the short time I've known him. So what do we do now?"

Spock spent the next half hour teaching Young to sense the attention of those around him. As with pain management, Young was a good student and learned quickly.

"There is one other thing I wish to do tonight, but first, your assignment: I will return at 0630 tomorrow, at which time you will recite for me the locations of each item in this room. You must be completely confident navigating the furnishings without assistance from your wives. At 0645 we will depart for Sickbay, and I will teach you how to follow me by sound. The schedule for the remainder of the day will depend on the results of Dr. McCoy's exam. Any questions?"

"None."

"Very well. The primary reason I asked Captain Kirk to come tonight is to provide the promised demonstration of pain transference." Spock turned his head. "Jim, do you still wish to repeat what you did this morning?"

"Absolutely."

"And do you have objections to this audience?"

"None whatever."

"Can I ask a personal question?" interrupted Young.

"Certainly." "Sure." Spock and Kirk answered together.

"Spock, you just addressed Captain Kirk as Jim. Does that change in form have significance?"

"Yes, it does. We have moved to a level of friend to friend, rather than Captain to First Officer, or teacher to assistant. There is no duty obligation implied in this activity. When using my name, he manages to convey nuances of meaning simply by changing his tone of voice. A word of warning, however."

Spock turned to Kirk. "Jim, in order to observe, Captain Young will have to be part of the meld. I believe I can do this safely. If I am mistaken, it is probable that one or both of you would suffer a period of unconsciousness. Also, though not probable, it is possible that you might sustain physical damage to the eyes through repetition of this activity."

"I'll risk it - twice a day for as long as I'm here. Which won't be long enough to do you much good. Even at edge of consciousness, I'm only taking a small piece of what you're carrying. But I'll do what I can, and pray that, for once, McCoy is wrong."

"He seldom is."

"Wrong about what?" inquired Young.

Kirk sighed. "McCoy thinks Spock's injury won't heal because he's carrying all of your pain on top of his own."

"It does not matter whether the injury heals. I can carry the pain, and you cannot. The logical choice was obvious."

"I will learn." Young sounded very determined.

"Perhaps. I want you to observe how Jim handles the pain. It is slightly different from what I do. It works for him; you will have to find what works for you. Also, while Jim is quite capable, he will make no effort to control outward manifestations. His goal is maximum quantity, and his appearance is irrelevant. You may wish to excuse your wives, though I doubt they would see anything very disturbing. Jim does not rant and rave, except for effect."

Kirk grinned and shrugged helplessly, in no wise disturbed by Spock's dry humor.

Young noted the mockery, but made no comment on it. "Nona, Gisa, I'll leave it up to you. Stay or go, as you wish."

"I'll stay." "Me, too."

"Spock, I'd like to start on the floor, rather than try to get there after you unload. And I have no deadlines tonight, so don't be in any hurry to take it all back."

"Understood."


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

They took up position with Young on the couch, Kirk on the floor, and Spock sitting between them. The ladies perched on the chairs, Gisa focused on Kirk, Nona on Young. Spock established a connection with Young first.

*You must be prepared to be aware of the pain as it passes from me to Jim. Begin your pain control techniques now. We will proceed when you can do them automatically. I want your attention focused on Captain Kirk.*

Kirk lay on the floor, watching Spock. Grateful there was no jealousy in his heart towards Young, Kirk smiled. Gisa saw it and marveled. Kirk looked completely relaxed and content, with not a sign of apprehension. Kirk felt her gaze, turned his head, and grinned at her. Thus he did not see Spock's hand approach.

*What is funny?*

*Gisa is giving me such a wide-eyed look, as if she can't believe this is happening. Sorry Young, no disrespect intended.*

*Not a problem, Kirk. I know the look you mean.*

*Jim, are you certain?*

*JatlhnISbe'lu.* (Klingon translation: This need not be said.) *Sorry, Spock, you know better than to ask me that.*

*My apologies. However, your accent lacks the characteristic Klingon snarl.*

Kirk laughed. *That's what Uhura says too. I just can't force myself to snarl at her, or you either. Well, enough joking around. Let's get on with it.*

Spock fed him the pain in small portions, just as he had that morning. Kirk supposed it was safer this way, but it was hard to restrain his impatience. He focused his attention on repeating the word _more_.

*Jim, what is your perception of how much I have given you?*

*I don't know - not enough. I'm nowhere near unconsciousness.*

*I have given you as much as I did this morning. Either the Lord has enlarged your capacity, or He is taking some of it even as I give it to you, or possibly, you can handle more if received at a slower pace.*

*Well, whatever the reason, I'll take it. Don't stop now!*

So Spock gave him more, and more. And Kirk continued to take it and ask for more. Finally Spock stopped. Kirk was still not on the edge of losing consciousness, so he asked for more.

*There is no more. You have it all.*

*Not just all of Young's, but all of yours too? Really and truly all?*

*Yes.*

*Thank you, Lord. Now get out of here and enjoy your break. You'll know if I'm starting to lose it.*

Spock withdrew from both Kirk and Young. It was a shock to be completely pain-free. He put his hands on his face and explored the injury. His face had been in various degrees of agony for the past four days. Freedom from it, however brief, was Jim's precious gift, and he would enjoy it to the full. He took a deep breath, focused one ear on Jim's breathing, and the other on Young.

"What have you learned?"

"He's incredible! You both are!"

"I want to make sure you understand that he does not have the ability to do what he just did. I would have stopped at the level we achieved this morning, but I knew he wanted all of it. When I realized we were operating in the miraculous, I increased the rate of pain transference, and he never even noticed." Spock expected no reaction from Kirk and didn't wait for one. "But you have not answered my question."

"Yes, you are quite different. You took my pain carefully brick by brick, stored it in a vault, and closed and locked the door. He takes your bricks and they become liquid in a wide-open vat that's never full. You hold yourself separate from the pain; he swims in it. Yet as different as you are, you're equally matched in willingness to accept maximum pain. How can two such different systems work equally well?"

Kirk laughed. "He's got us pegged to a T, Spock. Young, the truth is we each can use the other's methods and have found frequent occasion to do so. But our personality dictates the method if circumstances permit a choice."

"You don't sound as if you're in pain. Has it disappeared, or are you using Spock's system now?"

Kirk chuckled. "Yes, I guess I am, sort of. I'm still swimming in it to the extent that I don't want to move my head or open my eyes, but I'm controlling my breathing, so you don't hear pain in my voice. I did it automatically without thought. Do you want me to stop doing it?"

"Could you?"

"Sure, but (gasp) it makes (gasp) conver- (gasp) sation (gasp) much (gasp) more (gasp) diffi- (gasp) cult. So you see why it has become automatic."

"You turn it on and off like a switch!"

"Yes. Spock can too, but you'll rarely see him do it. Without a powerful reason not to, he prefers to stay in control." Kirk glanced at Gisa and smiled.

"That I understand perfectly. It's you I don't understand."

"Can you formulate a question?"

"It's your emotions, I guess. I understand your worry about Spock's injury, but I sensed gratitude, eagerness, even joy. You are not a masochist. How can pain be welcomed with joy? And why?"

_Give me the right words, Lord,_ Kirk prayed.

"I am full of joy for two reasons. There is nothing I'd rather do than be a channel for the Lord's love. He has demonstrated that love powerfully tonight. Secondly, my love for Spock is such that his well-being is more important to me than my own. He feels the same about me. So it is a rare privilege for him to let me help. We can have this love for each other, and extend it to others, such as yourself, because of the love of Jesus that resides within us and transforms us from the inside out."

It was time to go. Spock took back the pain he had given Kirk. Young noticed it took only a small fraction of the time it had taken earlier.

"Is that because you are taking back less than you gave him?"

"The quantity is somewhat less, but it is primarily because there is no need to move slowly. My capacity has not decreased during this brief respite."

"So next time, just dump. Forget the slow and careful routine," Kirk urged.

"In spite of your enlarged capacity, it is not safe," Spock declared adamantly.

"Have it your way. I'll be at your door at 0500. Good night, gentlemen, ladies."

Kirk rose in one fluid motion, with no sign of lingering pain, and departed.

"Any questions before I go?" Spock asked.

"Is there nothing he fears?"

"Yes, but you are quite correct; he does not fear pain."

xxxx

Kirk arrived at Spock's quarters promptly at 0500, having slept well. Spock, of course, was not sleeping, but rose to sit on the bed when Kirk entered.

"Jim, I should not let you do this."

"Why not? There's no damage as far as I can tell."

"The desire to be pain-free is overwhelming," Spock admitted quietly.

"You're afraid you won't take it back? I'll risk it."

He lay down on the floor next to the bed and began to pray for Spock. So fervent was his prayer that he hardly noticed Spock's hand on his face or the pain that came with it. Spock dumped twice as fast as he had the night before. Kirk didn't notice the semi-controlled frenzy with which Spock worked. He only noticed when Spock quit.

"Is that all? You're not keeping some of it? Spock, I want you to be pain-free."

"I am. You have it all."

"Good. You don't have to keep me company. You've got about an hour and a half. Do you want to sleep, or go work out in the gym?"

"Jim, I-"

"Spock, I'll be fine. Just go. It'll do you good."

Spock gave up the argument and left without a further word. Making his purposeful way to the gym, Spock swam 20 laps in the pool, worked his way through a complicated series of martial arts moves, and finished up with the punching bag. Tanzer took notice, but made no comment. It was typical for crewmen to work out their frustrations in the gym. It was not typical for Spock to do so.

Finding no peace, Spock went to the observation lounge and confronted himself. _The truth is, I can carry that pain indefinitely and continue to function. I do not want to. Having twice tasted freedom, I do not want to return to a pain-filled existence. Knowing that Jim cannot function, I am still strongly tempted to leave him with it. It is not practical, and Jim knows I will not do it, but I still desperately want to. Lord, why is this so difficult? I should be able to handle this._

Hearing no immediate answer, Spock returned to his quarters. Jim had not moved from his position on the floor.

"You're early, Spock."

"Jim, I must talk with you."

"I'm listening."

"I must take back the pain, but I do not want to. I desperately do not want to."

"But Spock, you don't have to. Just get McCoy up here to pump me full of enough pain medicine to let me function for 48 hours. After you leave the outpost, I'll just let the medicine wear off. By the time the Klingons get here, I won't care what they do to me."

"No."

Spock placed his hand on Kirk's face and took back the pain. Kirk sat up and studied Spock in silence.

"You did that on purpose." It was a cross between an accusation and a question.

"Yes and no. Everything I said was true, but I was well aware of the effect my words would have on you."

"Jim, I cannot allow you to do this again." Spock sat rigidly on the bunk.

"Spock, it seems to me that every time we pass the pain back and forth, the quantity decreases. Am I imagining it?"

"That is my impression as well."

"Why do you think the Lord is doing that? He could have taken it all at once. And why did He increase my capacity, so that I can handle all of it?"

"The obvious answer is He wants me to be pain-free, but only part of the time. Are you saying this is a character test?" Merely voicing the idea loosened Spock's spine slightly.

"The other possibilities are that there's something in us preventing a complete healing, or somehow Satan has the upper hand in this situation. What do you think?"

"I will ask the Lord." Spock was silent briefly. "It is a test, and I am flunking."

"How so?"

"He wants me to learn to rely on His strength. I have been trying to do it on my own. That being the case, I will allow you to do this as often as He directs." His body returned to its normal relaxed posture.

"Tonight then. 2100, if circumstances permit."

xxxx

Spock spent most of the next two days training Young. Kirk helped with a couple of sessions on the Hangar Deck. Young laughed frequently, was never embarrassed, and feared nothing. Kirk liked him, a lot. During a break, he asked about it.

"Young, can I ask you a very personal question?"

"Sure. You've satisfied my curiosity several times."

"It's my understanding that Morenans can give off chemicals that affect those around them. Are you giving off a chemical that makes me like you?" Kirk's open smile contained only curiosity. There was no hint of accusation in his voice.

Young laughed. "No chemicals, Kirk. But I'm surprised you admit to liking me. You've a powerful reason not to."

"Oh? What is that?"

"I've stolen your ship, and if successful, I will usurp your place with your friends."

"But I want you to, and they all know it. Nor is it your fault I'm leaving the ship."

"You want me to? Please explain."

Kirk paused to order his thoughts. "One of the things that makes _Enterprise_ unique in Starfleet is the way in which the seven of us function together as a unit. My departure leaves a hole in the unit. The sooner you plug the hole, the more likely the unit will survive. My interest is in the long-term health of my friends and this ship. It's in their best interest to bond with you as quickly and thoroughly as possible.

"When I got the report of your service record, I thought the task was impossible. But I've liked everything I've seen since you came aboard, and I no longer think the job impossible, in spite of that service record. Incidentally, Spock never did think it hopeless, and it's because of him that you're on your feet and functioning. Not only could no one else do what he did, it wouldn't have occurred to us to try."

"I'm well aware of what I owe Spock. When you told me yesterday to be his friend, this is what you meant?"

"Yes, though with Spock, the bond goes much deeper. I can't explain why; I think it's because of who he is, and some of the things we've shared over the years."


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Kirk and Spock passed the pain back and forth twice more. Both times, Spock lay on the bed and prayed. Each time the pain decreased, but didn't disappear. The last time Kirk wanted to keep what was left, but Spock refused.

Young took the fit-for-duty test on the afternoon of the third day. McCoy had insisted they come up with an adequate demonstration that didn't include blood and gore. Spock pointed out that they hadn't planned for the previous demonstration to end that way.

"So what! That didn't stop you from doing it! I'm just warning you - no blood! I won't stand for it!"

Young wanted to know what the argument was about, so McCoy gave him a blow-by-blow description of what Kirk and Spock had done.

"So why are you angry with Spock?"

McCoy sighed helplessly, turned to Kirk and said, "You tell him, Jim." McCoy shook his head and departed.

"Bones is mad at me for ripping Spock's face open; he's mad at Spock for letting me do it; he's mad at himself for not anticipating and preventing the whole thing. But mostly he's mad at the pain, both physical and emotional. When we hurt, he hurts. We gave up long ago trying to protect him from it. We put up with the anger because it helps him deal with it. We know that what he's really saying is that he cares too deep for words."

"So when he starts yelling at me for getting injured, I'll have reached the status of close friend. As long as he's polite, I'm a stranger," Young concluded with a smile.

"You got it."

Young's test was held on the Hangar Deck. After showing up everybody but Kirk and Spock at all the exercises, they created a new one just for Young. The onlookers created a large oval ring. Inside the ring, they placed various containers of different shapes and sizes. Then they tied Spock's and Young's hands behind their backs. Starting from opposite ends of the ring, they had to stay within the ring, avoid all the obstacles, and play cat and mouse. Young's goal was to find and touch Spock. Spock's goal was to avoid being found. There was a one-hour time limit.

Kirk watched Young with interest. He knew what Spock would do: move as little as possible, and only under cover of ambient noise. But he would keep moving, because to remain stationary meant he would eventually be found. To Kirk's surprise, Young made no effort to be silent, but spent the first half-hour locating all the obstacles. That done however, he became a silent stalker, flitting back and forth, making no more noise than a light wind.

_Spock, you have met your match_, thought Kirk. Glancing at him, Kirk knew Spock thought so too. Young traversed the entire ring several times, barely missing Spock twice. With ten minutes left on the clock, Young stepped up the pace to a run, forcing Spock to do likewise. To Kirk it looked like a dance, though he knew it was not choreographed. With two minutes left, Young zigged when Spock thought he was going to zag, and they collided head-on in the center of the ring. Amid spontaneous applause, Young lay on the floor and laughed in delight. Spock bowed formally in defeat and quickly departed.

Kirk caught up with him in the corridor. "Spock! Where are you going?"

Spock stopped but didn't turn. "Captain, you will be departing the ship tonight. Certain things require my attention."

"Spock, why do I get the feeling you're running away?"

"I am overwhelmed by confusing emotions. I wished to obtain some distance from the situation in order to gain perspective."

"Tell me." It was a request, not a demand.

Spock turned bleakly to Kirk. "I enjoyed immensely that exercise with Captain Young. In fact, I have thoroughly enjoyed working with him these past days."

"So have I. What's wrong with that?"

"Jim, I understand why you want him to take your place. I have even worked to make it happen. But I do not have to like it."

"I'm sorry, Spock. I know this is hard, but you've done a wonderful job. It will be easier to like Young after I'm gone."

"Perhaps."

At that moment, the red alert siren went off. They dashed for the turbolift, followed by scores of crewmen from the Hangar Deck. Reaching the Bridge, Kirk discovered the source of the alarm was a Klingon battlecruiser. The lift disgorged Sulu, Chekov, and Uhura. Kirk settled in the center seat. His Bridge crew was still blind, but you couldn't tell it by the way they moved or their readiness for action.

"Sulu, Chekov, can we do this?"

"Yes, sir, we can." "Aye, sir, ready and vaiting."

"Uhura, open a channel."

At that moment the lift opened for Chuck, Sullivan, and Young. Kirk glanced quickly in their direction.

"Make it a tight beam, not the whole Bridge."

"Yes, sir. Channel open."

"What are you doing here, and what do you want?" Kirk barked in Klingon. "You're violating Federation space."

"Kirk?" The Klingon commander was clearly puzzled. "On the _Enterprise_? What facility is that? Our navigational computer is malfunctioning."

"It's a Federation outpost. You are on the wrong side of the Zone. Lay in a course 342 Mark 8, and you'll correct the error. On the other hand, if you want to start a war, feel free." Kirk switched to Standard. "Chekov, hold your fire. Sulu, prepare for evasive." Back to Klingon: "You've got sixty seconds to make up your mind."

Kirk gestured at Uhura to close the channel, remembered she couldn't see him, and realized she had intuited his wishes and closed the channel.

"Thanks, Uhura. You read my mind."

"Yes, sir." She smiled.

Thirty seconds later the Klingons departed, rapidly reaching warp speed.

Kirk sighed. "Cancel Red Alert." Then he chuckled. "News travels faster than we thought. It'll take him a while to check his facts, but he'll be back. I want _Enterprise_ out of here before then."

He hit the intercom button.

"Kirk to Engineering. Scotty, how much longer on those repairs?"

_"About four hours, Cap'n."_

"Any chance of cutting it to two? We just had a visit from a Klingon battlecruiser."

_"I'll do ma best, Cap'n."_

"Thanks, Scotty. Kirk to Sickbay. Bones, how are the outpost crewmen doing?"

_"Current prognosis is they'll survive. But they're nowhere near fit for duty."_

"How about the other four?"

_"Three of them have regained their sight. The fourth is Adams, your second-in-command."_

"I'll stop in and see him before I go."

_"Oh, he's not here. I couldn't keep him more than five minutes. However," _he paused, _"I'm discharging Lt. Mechak tonight."_

"Thanks, Bones. I'll be there."

Kirk turned to Young. "Captain Young, I am formally returning command of the _Enterprise_ to you. I'll be off the ship within the hour, and will contact you when repairs are complete. She's a great ship, and I have confidence in you as her captain. It's been a pleasure."

Then he circled the Bridge, giving a last farewell to each.

Sam Cogley was at Spock's side. "Thanks for all your help, Sam."

"It's been a privilege. I just wish there'd been time for us to talk."

"So do I, but really I said it all before the trial. Nothing's changed. You're not blaming yourself, I hope?"

"No, you got what you wanted. I just wasn't sure what you thought of my being on the observers panel." Sam was clearly uncomfortable.

"You're wondering if I think you've joined the enemy camp?"

"Something like that. Maybe I just wanted a chance to explain. I'm a civilian. They couldn't _make_ me do this."

Kirk chuckled. "Actually, they could, but I don't imagine they had to resort to that. Explain if you want to, but I don't consider it at all necessary. The observers aren't enemies. In fact, I think it was a great idea. And I'm glad you're on the panel. Don't be afraid to tell the truth as you see it."

"Actually the idea was mine. I told them they ought to collect more data before they condemned you. When they asked me to be on the panel, I could hardly refuse."

"Sam, it's not a problem. I would've picked you myself if they'd asked me, which they didn't. You'll give them an unbiased opinion, not swayed by politics or your preconceived notions. And Sam, thank you for standing by me even when I wouldn't let you do what you thought was best." Kirk was grateful to see a sigh of relief from Sam.

"You're welcome, Jim. I'd like to wish you the best, but..." He trailed off.

"Don't ever doubt that God's in control. Remember that, Sam."

Spock was last. They needed no words, for they had all been said. Spock gripped Kirk's arm in a final touch.

*Spock-*

*Jim, I will keep this open as long as I can.*

*I won't forbid it, but it would be better for you not to do this.*

*I don't care.*

*That's my line, Spock.*

Turning to Chuck, Kirk smiled. "Want to follow me around one more time?"

"I'd love to."

They left the Bridge and went first to Kirk's quarters, where he picked up his gear. After leaving it in the Transporter Room, they went to Sickbay. McCoy was in his office.

"Bones, I know what you're going to say, and you're right - I have no excuse. I just forgot. How is he?"

"Physically, he's fine. Carl's talked to him several times. Even Spock has been in to see him."

"But I haven't, so he doesn't believe them," Kirk surmised dejectedly.

"I'm afraid that's right. He doesn't say so, but I can see it in his eyes."

"Okay, I'll do what I can to repair the damage."

Kirk and Chuck went into Eric's room. Eric looked up with wary apprehension in his eyes. Kirk went straight to the bed.

"Eric, I'm sorry I didn't get in to see you sooner. Last week when I was here, Bones said you were too weak to talk. I didn't stay on top of the reports on your condition. I should have been in here several days ago. Can you forgive me?"

"Captain-" Eric just shook his head, unable to continue.

"I know it's inexcusable, and I wouldn't even ask, except it would be better for you if you could forgive."

"Captain, stop it! Please!" Eric began to sob.

"It's okay to be upset. I've hurt you badly. Show me just how much you hurt."

Eric just shook his head and continued to sob. After a few minutes, Kirk urged him to put words to his feelings.

"You don't understand, Captain."

"I want to. Please tell me."

"The idea that I should forgive you is backwards. I'll never forgive myself for what I've done to you." Eric's eyes held the picture of despair.

"I thought we settled that a year ago."

"We did, but now-" He shook his head.

"Eric, look at me. Remember what I said about what you saw in my eyes? Well, here we are at next year. Where's the love, joy, and peace? Have they disappeared? What do you see in my eyes?"

"How can you?"

"The love of Jesus is rock-solid unshakeable. Doesn't matter what happens to you or me, that love is constant. Eric, you've done nothing that needs my forgiveness. I have no regrets about that meeting last year, or the decision to remain silent. What's happening to me is ordained by God, and nothing said or not said about that meeting would have changed the outcome. You must believe this is not your fault."

"But it is! The whole thing was my idea." Eric glanced at Chuck and said no more.

"You're right, Chuck doesn't know, and we're not going to tell him. But he _was_ in the courtroom. Chuck, help me out. Maybe Eric will believe _you_." Kirk pulled Chuck forward in frustration.

"Eric, I don't know you, and all I know about Jim Kirk I've learned in the last two weeks. In my opinion, somebody very high up was out to get Kirk. Your confidential meeting just happened to be easy to manipulate to achieve the desired result. The fact is they've got a camera record of everything that went on in his jail cell. Kirk knew it and didn't care. He just went right ahead and gave them all the ammunition they could possibly want. Anyway, my personal opinion is this was never about your meeting, and they'll never bring it up again."

"What do you mean about ammunition?"

"The real issue they're trying to deal with is whether allegiance to Jesus Christ makes an officer uncontrollable and therefore dangerous to Starfleet and the Federation. We had orders to make his life miserable. They wanted to break him."

"Ha! It can't be done." Eric shook his head emphatically.

"Maybe. Anyway, we didn't succeed - he just laughed at us. Then he proceeded to create several encounters that were designed to help someone, but that constituted worse torture than anything we would have dared. For instance, let me tell you what he did to me."

Chuck proceeded to describe his encounter with Kirk's face.

"And he displayed that iron will in front of the camera. So now they have ample proof that he is uncontrollable, at least by any ordinary means."

"Okay, I see that, but the fact remains that he's being kicked off the _Enterprise_ because he refused to tell what I did to him."

"Eric," Kirk cut in, "What do you think would have happened if I'd told them?"

"Well, Carl and I would have gotten the ax - Greg and Cory too, probably."

"What else?" Kirk pressed.

"You'd have been declared not guilty."

"I _was_ declared not guilty."

"They wouldn't be taking your ship away from you."

"Eric, follow this through with me: If their scheme hadn't worked, what would they do next?"

"Give up?"

"You think so?" Kirk cocked an eyebrow at Eric.

"Try again, I suppose."

"Exactly. And the next time, they'd enlarge the scope of their attack to include others besides me. This way, I'm the only casualty. And the observers panel will collect enough data to set them straight about Christianity."

"And you're a casualty because of me."

Kirk was losing patience with Eric's stubbornness. He took a deep breath and reminded himself this wasn't about him. "Eric, what can I say that will make you stop blaming yourself for something that is not your fault?"

"I don't know. Nothing, I guess."

"Lord, help me. Eric, hold out your right hand and make a fist." Eric did. "Now I want you to imagine that your fist contains all the self-blame you've been harboring this week. Right now you're hanging onto that blame with an iron fist. If you keep it, it will destroy you. Jesus died so you wouldn't have to try to carry such a burden. He wants to take it, but you have to give it to Him. Can you turn your hand over, and open your fist? Let it go, release it to God?"

"I can't."

"Can you tell me why?" Kirk kept his voice gentle.

"Some things are too awful."

"You think this burden is too heavy for Jesus?"

"No, it's not that. It just isn't right. I don't deserve it."

"Eric, none of us deserves life, love, forgiveness, and the blessings of God. We all deserve to die. Sin is sin, whether it's one sin or many, a little one or a great big one. Jesus didn't pick and choose which sins He thought worth dying for. No, He said, 'Load it all on Me, every last one.' Eric, your sins are no better or worse than mine, and don't think I don't have any. Can you accept the Lord's forgiveness, knowing that He knows you don't deserve it, and He wants to forgive you anyway?"

Slowly, Eric nodded his head, tears streaming down his face.

"Then to show you accept His forgiveness, will you open your hand and release the burden to Him?"

Eric did. Kirk gave him a big bear hug.

"I'm so glad, Eric! Is your heart clear?"

"I think so, but-" He paused.

"Spit it out. What's still not right?"

"Well, I can understand that the Lord forgives all sin, but I don't see how _you_ can forgive me for ruining your life." The bleak look was back.

"Eric, look deep into my eyes and listen carefully. I want you to remember this in the days to come. With all my heart, I forgive you for whatever bad result has come to my life because of your actions. And that includes what may come in the future as well. I agree now to pay the cost, whatever it might be, and not hold you to account. That cost will not separate us or prevent our fellowship together. I can do this because of the love of Jesus that resides in me. Eric, do you believe me?"

"Yes, I do. Thank you." Eric sighed. "I don't know that I could do that though."

"God gives grace where it's needed. He has all the power you need to do what He wants you to do. I have to go now. Will you remember what I said after I'm gone?"

"Yes, sir. I promise. And thank you for taking the time to see me."

"You're welcome. I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner."

"I forgive you." Eric smiled.

Kirk and Chuck departed with a brief farewell to McCoy. Out in the corridor, Chuck had a question.

"One thing puzzles me. Do you or don't you think Eric is at fault?"

"Of course not, but it's more important for him to be free than to give mental assent to my view of reality. And everything I said is true, and would still be true even if I did think this was his fault. You could do me a favor. Check up on him in a week or two - make sure he's still doing all right, especially if you get bad news about me."

"I'd be glad to."

They stopped to see 29. Chuck went in with him, but didn't volunteer to talk to 29. Kirk asked 29 to download again, summarized briefly, and repeated his goodbye. On the way back to the Transporter Room, Chuck wondered at Kirk's desire to see 29.

"I like him! Plus he's a long way from home, and there aren't that many of us on board that talk to him regularly."

"I can see why!"

"You get used to the difficulties, and then you can ignore them."

"Maybe you can - I can't!"

"You haven't tried." Realizing what he'd said, Kirk apologized. "I'm sorry, Chuck, that's not fair of me. This week hasn't exactly been easy for you."

"No, but you're right - I shouldn't say I can't when I haven't even tried. So when there's time, we'll see."

"Get Spock to help you, and I don't mean do it for you."

They had almost reached the Transporter Room.

"Jim, can I ask you a favor?"

They stopped walking.

"Sure."

"Will you let me touch your face again?"

"Certainly. Be my guest."

Kirk stood quietly and smiled while Chuck cautiously but thoroughly examined his face. When he got to the eyes, Kirk neither closed them nor flinched, but looked steadily at Chuck's blind eyes.

"These eyes communicate even when I can't see them. I used to think your fearlessness and trust were a facade. That if I looked deep enough, I'd find the real you. I've since discovered this is the real you. You consistently wear your inner self on the outside. Thank you for letting me know you. It's been a rare privilege."

"It has for me too, Chuck. I'm going to miss those beady eyes. Never be afraid to tell the truth as you see it. And let the chips fall. God controls the chips and the ax."

So Kirk departed the _Enterprise_ without any audience or fanfare. _Thank you, Lord,_ he thought, as he bid the ship goodbye.


End file.
